


Nothing Stays The Same

by BigBadLittleRed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abusive Undertones, Alpha Stiles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, Dom Stiles, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Discipline, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Derek, Protective Stiles, Sub Derek, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-04-15 13:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4608111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBadLittleRed/pseuds/BigBadLittleRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There had been a tremendous amount of stress, emotional and physical tolls pressing down on all of them. There had been death, pain, sadness. Many things pushed him to act, certain moments that told him it was time to make a move. </p><p>So he left with a note to his dad and two bags of stuff before getting on a bus. Beacon Hills turned into a distant memory behind him as the bus drove through the night. No matter how much guilt he felt, there was a fire in his chest that told him he was doing the right thing for himself.</p><p>That was three years ago, and now he's back. Armed with victory scars, a new outlook on life, and a new list of priorities. </p><p>Number 1: Derek<br/>Number 2: Himself</p><p>He's only here for a favor, that's it. He needs to do his job, and get the hell out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Looking Back

**Author's Note:**

> ( A new story, what the fuck else is new, yeah? I'm still working on the others, I promise. School has been completely killer, this is the worst year I've ever experienced. Having anxiety does not mix with teachers that assign two to three pages of homework per night. )

**_Three Years Ago_ **

 

_The argument treats him like the rain, soaking through his clothes with a chilling icy feeling that seeps into his bones. The thing he dreaded for years, one of the fears that haunts his every moment, is occurring right at this moment._

 

_"Why didn't you tell me what happened?"_

 

_"I couldn't."_

 

_"You killed him?" Scott's dark brown eyes glimmer with hurt and mistrust, an expression he has never seen his best friend wear for him before. "You killed Donovan?" It makes that darkness in his heart bubble, like a sticky black mud that's coating his insides and dousing everything in this feeling of death. The wrench in his hand is a slick cold feeling, one that keeps him grounded._

 

_"He was gonna kill my dad, what was I supposed to do... Just let him?"_

 

_"You weren't supposed to do this. None of us are."_

 

_"You think I had a choice?" Scott thinks he's lying, how could he? Theo over Stiles...._

 

_"There's always a choice." He sounds like a therapist, or a condescending counselor. Scott appears almost fearful of him, the True Alpha, Scott McCall. Seeing him as a monster, the human boy, a monster._

 

_Scott doesn't believe him._

 

_"Yeah, well I can't do what you can, Scott." How dare Scott, the best friend that had been there for him almost all their lives, suddenly see him in such a dark light? "I know you wouldn't have done it, you probably would have just figured something out, right?"_

 

_His own voice sounds like something akin to accusing. Honest Scott, loyal Scott, perfect Scott. He always put Scott on a pedestal, just like everyone else around him. But now, he can only see someone who has slowly been pushing him into the background for years._

 

_"I try." And isn't that so very humble? Stiles is selfish, annoying, hyperactive, selfish, imperfect. Stiles is nothing compared to Scott, he never has been. Even his own father believes it._

 

_"Yeah, because you're Scott McCall! You're the True Alpha!" Anger pours off of him in waves, the black mud in his chest boiling into a scorching tar that lashes out at all the evil and wrongdoing that have been thrust onto him without provocation. "Guess what, all of us can't be True Alphas. Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes..." He throws his hands about, that cage of mass emotions being unleashed in a giant release._

 

_"SOME OF US ARE HUMAN!"_

 

_"You had to kill him?"  Like he could have chosen something different, like he didn't struggle up that scaffolding terrified he was going to die!_

 

_"Yeah, he was gonna kill my dad!"_

 

_"The way that it happened..." Scott shifts slightly, shaking his head. "The point was just... It's not self defense anymore."_

 

_"What are you talking about?! I didn't have a choice, Scott!" He shouts over the rain, not sure if the volume is for clarity or just a release of anger. He defended himself, if he could have done it differently, he would have. Then again, maybe he was always destined for making mistakes, the blood on his hands made that evident._

 

_"You don't even believe me do you?" Theo, he chooses Theo over his best friend, his so-called brother._

 

_"I want to..." Like that's an answer, like that makes anything better._

 

_"Okay great, so... So believe me then." He stands silent, without an offer of agreement. "Scott, say you believe me." He's edging on pleading, he just wants this to end. He can't lose Scott, no matter how much he stands in the young man's shadow, they're still best friends. They have to be. That makes more sense than anything else is his life. The one thing he can trust, Scott being his best pal. "Say it... Say you believe me." He mutters._

 

_"Stiles you can't kill people we're trying to save."_

 

_"Say you believe me." He steps forward, watches Scott flinch at the wrench gripped and forgotten in his hand, like he expects to be Stiles' next victim. He peers down at that hard piece of metal, and realizes that he's lost all trust. Scott would think him so low at to attack his best friend.  
_

 

_"You can't kill people! Do you believe that?" It's just then that he thinks back, back through all of the years of this hellish nightmare. Stiles has done a lot of things. Stiles broke the law, stole, cheated, lied. He was the reason they were here, the reason they weren't having a normal day as seniors. He was the Nogitsune, who killed so many people. And even after, he took a wrench to a guy's head. Stiles, Stiles, all Stiles._

 

_He searches for words, mouth hanging open slightly and tears gathering in his eyes._

 

_"What do I do about this?" He needs redemption, he's made a mistake, he wants to fix it. "What do you want me to do? 'Kay? Just... Scott, just tell me how to fix this. All right?" Scott can help him, Scott is so much more pure and worthy, surely he can guide Stiles. "Please, just tell me.. What do you want me to do!?" His voice cracks slightly with the sudden desperation, the need to be okay again. The need to be just Stiles, Scott's goofy little sidekick._

 

_"Don't worry about Malia, or Lydia.. We'll find them..." He shifts, unsure and uneasy. But he has Stiles' complete attention and focus. "Maybe.. Uh... Maybe you should talk to your dad." Just like that, the world crumbles. Scott turns away and heads back inside, without another word._

 

_It's not forgiveness, or redemption, or even understanding._

 

_It's abandonment, loneliness, pain._ _There's no hope here, none at all._

 

_-_

 

_When he gets home, he soaked to the bone and exhausted beyond any previous experience. He strips from his clothes and puts on a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, sinking into his bed and grasping for his phone. He hits a number on speed-dial, biting his lip as the line connects him and begins to ring._

 

_"Hello?"_

 

_"Derek." His voice sounds raw and defeated, he expected this call to go a little more casual._

 

_"Stiles? What's wrong? You sound..." He doesn't finish, but he sounds worried. Stiles lets that feeling of being worth something absorb into his bloodstream, lifting his heart from the darkness just a bit._

 

_"I killed someone."_

 

_"What? Who? How? Where's Scott?" Derek demands, without accusation or mistrust. Just concern._

 

_"It was a few days ago... A chimera attacked me. He threatened my dad and chased me up a scaffolding. I unhooked something and it sent him falling into a girder of sorts.." He explains, feeling numb._

 

_"You defended yourself, Stiles. I don't want to hear that edge of guilt in your voice." He's the first person to say that, the first person to believe him._

 

_"Scott found out from Theo. This little creepy dude, reminds me of Peter actually." He tells the other, snuggling under his comforter and sighing softly._

 

_"He didn't take it well, I guess." Derek sounds so sympathetic, but not pitying. He's been there, without Scott's trust, the 'enemy' who was really just trying to do their best._

 

_"No.. We argued, he didn't believe me when I said I had to do it. He just walked away, I want to fix this, Derek. Tell me how." He pleads, a knot building in his throat._

 

_"Scott can be a little blind to reality, Stiles. He doesn't realize you can't save everyone, and that you can't go through lives like ours without spilling blood. You feel guilty about it, don't you?" Stiles nods against his phone, making a soft agreeing noise. "That's how you know that you're still human. There's nothing you can do but move on and accept your choices."_

 

_That's not the answer he's looking for. Scott will never forgive him that way, Derek may be lenient, but Scott wouldn't be._

 

_His first sob echoes in the room around him, his face crumpling up and tears spilling down his cheeks and onto his pillow._

 

_"He doesn't trust me anymore." He blubbers over the speaker, sniffling pitifully as he curls up a little tighter._

 

_"Do you remember what you told me that day you found me in the loft... After Braeden left?" Derek says suddenly, he nods. He remembers that day vividly, unfortunately. Derek wasn't in the best of places. "You told me that I deserved better, that Beacon Hills was tearing me to shreds. It's doing the same thing to you." He murmurs._

 

_"What about Scott?" He whimpers._

 

_"Screw Scott, if he can't appreciate you then you don't need him. You can come along with me... Braeden and I split up, it's been pretty lonely." Derek tells him quietly._

 

_"You'd spend days listening to me talk." Stiles warns him._

 

_"Nothing much to interrupt but silence. I'm not much of a talker, remember?" He's edging on humor, but it falls a little short. "Besides, I may... Miss you.. A little." He admits._

 

_"Really? Derek Hale? Missing me?" He questions, tears forgotten._

 

_"When you get used to mindless chatter, sudden silence is hard to handle." There's a pause. "What do you say?"_

 

_"Of course I'll run away with you, Derek." Stiles makes a smooching noise and laughs as Derek groans, almost hearing the eye roll._

 

_"You'd better leave a note or something because I don't want to be gunned down by your father for kidnapping you." Derek chuckles._

 

_"I'm eighteen, besides, he won't even notice I'm gone." It feels a little sad to say, but John has Scott... The son he wants._

 

_"Of course he will.. Leave a note, pack a bag, grab a bus. You got money?" He questions._

 

_"How far am I supposed to go?" Stiles inquires, sitting up and peering around. Feeling like this is all a dream of sorts, escaping the supernatural apocalypse to run away with Derek Hale._

 

_"Nevada. I'll text you the details, get a bus ticket and I'll meet you there." Derek says solemnly._

 

_"Wow, I'm really doing this." He says as he gets up and grabs a duffel bag from his closet._

 

_"You don't have to if you don't want to." Derek assures hesitantly, like he thinks Stiles is going to change his mind._

 

_"Too late, dude. You're already stuck with me."_

 

_"Don't call me dude." Derek gripes, before hanging up. Two minutes later, he receives the bus station he's riding to, and the link to the ticket he's supposed to buy._

 

_He starts digging through his clothes and packing things, ends up taking two bags. He writes out a long note, explaining that he's not sure when he's coming back, but he will eventually. He writes out the details of Donovan's death, apologizes a few times, and tells him that he loves him._

 

_He leaves at four in the morning, and doesn't look back._

 

 


	2. Heading Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have to head back to Beacon Hills, even if the town has moved on without them, even if they've moved on without Beacon Hills.

He is completely exhausted, rightly so after driving for six hours straight in the dark. He scans his surroundings as he drives, hoping that eventually he'll find a decent motel for the night. He peers over at Derek, who is slumped in the passenger seat of the Camaro with his head balanced against the glass of the window. His dark lashes a contrast to his lightly tanned cheeks, pink lips parted slightly in deep respirations. They could be in a cabin in some beautiful woods further north, sleeping under comfy blankets to fight the chill of winter. Instead, they were on the road at four in the morning, driving down to Beacon Hills.

 

Stiles wouldn't have decided to head back on his own, even after all they had been through in the past three years, he was still holding a slight grudge. But Isaac was insistent, Beacon Hills needed help and even if Scott had been a dick, he didn't deserve to die. As far as they know, from young man's briefing over the phone, there was some serious business that needed to be taken care of. He had returned from France to find a shitload of problems going on, and apparently Scott was barely handling it. Stiles thought it funny, really. The True Alpha, unable to handle an enemy, needing help from people he'd screwed over years before.

 

It still stung, Scott's words of disbelief and mistrust still rang in his ears on bad days. But what made his chest ache was the things that Derek had shared.

 

His perspective was different from that of the scared teenagers they had been. Derek had been a scared twenty-four year old, who had never really fought before in his life. He knew about threats, but his mother always dealt with everything. He was a domesticated rich kid with a big family that had been yanked out from under his feet, he had never given thought to danger or fighting. He had to learn and at the same time, help some dumb kids from being murdered. He was battling the war inside and outside, depression, grief, self hatred.

 

Derek had some shit self-esteem in the first place, but going back to Beacon Hills had taken his scarred up personality and ripped open new wounds. He had been through too much to not be a mess of mistrust, self-loathing, and PTSD. There were some days where he couldn't even make a simple decision without breaking down.

 

That's why Stiles and Derek were so perfect for each other, they fit into the things the other desperately needed. Derek needed someone to trust, someone to put faith in that wouldn't use him for ulterior motives. He wanted someone to make the choices, to take it out of his hands every once in a while. Stiles was that someone, which is what benefitted him as well. Stiles yearned for power and control, still could recall loving the leverage he held over everyone as the Nogitsune. It used to make his stomach turn, thinking that he longed for the feeling of being in control. Even if that meant hurting everyone, he was on top, he called the shots. Without absolute control, he felt helpless, weak.

 

Now, he could have that authority, over three years, he has gained the perfect amount of control. Enough to put him at ease. He has power, and what he does with that power, is oh so important.

 

He protects them.

 

Not everyone. He couldn't protect everyone, that was Scott's mistake. He protects himself, and Derek. Because saving others isn't important to him, he protects those that he cares about. Right now, that is only Derek and himself. Because he can't live without Derek, and to be separated from him would be like taking away a vital part of his life. A life without Derek is one without purpose, his purpose being to take care of Derek. Just like Derek's purpose is to watch Stiles' back, and take care of him in return. He couldn't even picture a future without Derek, it would be a dark place.

 

Stiles grips the steering wheel a little tighter and shakes the painful thoughts from his head, glancing over at the dash clock.

 

**4:57 A.M.**

 

He's just about to debate pulling over and sleeping in the car for the night. It wouldn't be the first time in three years, curled up on leather seats in the middle of nowhere. But then he sees some lights in the distance, rubs a hand over his eyes and speeds up a little. These are the times when he doesn't miss his Jeep, it wasn't as reliable as the Camaro, old and broken down. It pulls at his heart strings to think thoughts as such, about his dearly departed Roscoe, but they were true. His blue beauty had to be laid to rest after one too many supernatural encounters. Just before he left California to meet up with Derek, watched it get towed away. He can't look at duct tape without getting nostalgic anymore.

 

"Der.. Wake up." He paws at Derek's arm, who makes a disgruntled noise and curls away from his touch. Stiles looks to make sure he isn't going to drive off the road, then switches back, shaking the man once more. "Up, Derek." He commands softly, the man lets out a deep sigh and sits up blearily. He rolls his head on his shoulders, the audible crack it results in makes Stiles cringe a little. He stretches his legs out as best he can, muscles shifting and joints popping.

 

He sinks back into his seat, blinking sleepily at the road as they're met with an array of buildings and businesses.

 

"You've been out for like three and a half hours." Stiles informs him, offering a smile when Derek peers over at him with glassy eyes. Derek always looked so cute when he woke up, but Stiles rarely said that, it made Derek grumpy. "Hungry?" He says instead.

 

"Tired." He replies gruffly, rubbing at his eyes and tugging at the seatbelt over his chest a little.

 

"We haven't eaten since lunch." He argues quietly, keeping the condescending tone from his voice. It was a dance they did, to win, Stiles had to make his argument convincing like casual conversation. Had to put it in Derek's head that he was right without outright telling him. Usually, he didn't have to do this, he just told Derek bluntly. But when Derek was tired, there was more of a chance of it resulting in a fight. Stiles did not want to fight, he was too damn tired.

 

"M'not hungry." Derek huffs, Stiles runs a hand through his hair with a soft sigh. He was not giving up, Derek was his responsibility. Especially since the man never cared about mental health or dietary needs.

 

"Won't take long, just like twenty minutes. Then we can get a motel and go to bed, yeah?" He punctuates his offer with a yawn.

 

"Yeah... Sure." Stiles mentally thanks whatever ethereal being exists, because Derek is in the state just sleepy enough for giving up an argument, which rarely occurs.

 

-

 

They go into a diner and have breakfast for dinner, the diner is nice and quiet. Stiles places his hand on the table and Derek puts his own atop it. They order and eat in almost complete silence. There's barely anyone around, an exhausted group of college students are puttering over some paperwork while passing a pot of coffee between them to pour into their mugs. There's a trucker on a bar stool, reading the paper and drinking coffee while eating a very artery clogging meal. Then there's the cook, and the waitress.

 

The waitress is a very polite brunette, who takes their order with a bright smile that doesn't fit the time. They talk about reaching Beacon Hills, which should happen around four or five in the afternoon the next day. After they're done eating, they leave a nice tip for the girl and are on their way. Stiles somehow ends up in the passenger's seat, dozing quietly to Bob Dylan singing about knocking on heaven's door. He's so out of it, he doesn't notice the car stopping, or Derek getting out of the car and retrieving something from the back. He only awakens five minutes later when his door opens and he almost falls out, only to be caught and lifted into strong arms. He flails slightly, Derek holds him a little tighter.

 

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Derek murmurs, uses his foot to kick the Camaro door closed. He's too tired to protest, curls up against Derek's warm chest, trying to beat the cold that nips at his face. He yelps when he's shifted from a bridal carry, legs hitched onto Derek's hips as his arms scramble to clutch around his neck. The older man leverages an arm under his bottom, using his free hand to find a key that clinks quietly against the keychain that's a little piece of green rubber with a white rose on it.

 

Derek drops him onto the bed without a care, he hits the scratchy blanket with a deep frown.

 

"Romance is dead." He grumbles as his head bounces roughly against the comforter with the force of the drop. He hears Derek bark a soft laugh as he retreats into the bathroom with a bag.

 

He finds his own blue duffel by the bed, digging through it until he finds a t-shirt and some pajama bottoms. He strips down to his socks and puts on the new outfit, quickly climbing under the covers to warm up a bit more. When his head falls against a pillow that's nothing he's used to, he remembers. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, and he almost calls out for Derek to retrieve his pillow from the car, but then he spots it on the other side of the bed. He scrambles over, rubbing his face against the soft pillowcase, smelling the familiar scent.

 

Derek had remembered his pillow, his cheeks heat up slightly. The bathroom door opens and Derek walks out wearing a pair of boxer-briefs and a t-shirt. He slips under the blankets, adjusting for a moment, Stiles turns to face him.

 

"You remembered my pillow." He utters softly, Derek stares at him for a moment, as if unsure what to say.

 

"Go brush your teeth." Is what comes out instead of a reply, with a scent of sharp mint. Stiles sighs as he gets up out of the warmth of bed, finding his toothbrush beside Derek's on the sink.

 

He brushes quickly and retreats to the bedroom. It's dark, extremely dark. Neither of them enjoy the dark, for different reasons, so he leaves the bathroom light on and cracks the door. He walks over and slides under the sheets, resting against the cool fabric of his pillow with the contrast of the warm covers encasing his body. Derek scoots forward with a moment's hesitation, they lay on the pillow together, Stiles' face pressed against Derek's neck. They intertwine easily, legs a mess of limbs, arms wrapped around each other.

 

Derek's lips are pressed to Stiles' hair, there are cars passing by outside, talking somewhere nearby in the parking lot. But the loudest sounds are their heartbeats and their settling breaths.

 

"How bad do you think it'll be?" Stiles asks quietly after a few minutes, when it's clear neither of them are sleeping yet. "In Beacon Hills." He elaborates.

 

"Isaac wouldn't have called us unless he was seriously concerned." Derek tells him, which isn't a very good answer.

 

"It's going to be hard.. Everything's going to be different." Which is true, Derek nods against his hair to show his agreement. Three years, it's not like it would be the same. There was something that he knew was drastically different, which was his dad's absence. Stiles had kept in touch with his father for a while, but just last year he had received a call from Melissa who informed him that he had passed away. Nobody tried to contact him other than her, and he was grateful. He couldn't deal with them trying to reconcile during that heavy time. He hadn't gone back for the funeral, and he didn't regret it.

 

The last time they had talked on Skype, they had told each other 'I love you', and smiled before hanging up. That was their last time together, and Stiles wanted it to stay that way. Remember John as warm and kind, with laughter lines and a gentle smile. Not as a corpse in a suit to be buried. Although Derek had pushed a little, Stiles had remained firm, they didn't go back.

 

Melissa texted him after that, random little things. "Nurse Abbey asked me where you disappeared to today." or "It's odd to see Scott without you".. At first he just read them a few times, typed out a couple of possible replies, backspaced, then closed it out. But one day she messaged him "Scott has changed so much. I bet you have too."

 

That's the day he took a selfie for her, a picture of himself on a hike with Derek. He threw up a hand in a mock wave, gave a soft smirk, and snapped the shot. He sent the photo, receiving a smiley face only an hour later.

 

She was the only one nowadays. Originally, everyone would text him almost every day. Lydia would demand to know where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay. Kira would send him random pictures and ask him how his day was. Liam would tell him it was too quiet without his loud mouth. Scott was silent for about three months at first, then there was a flood of apologies, begging him to return. He ignored them, and then after a few months, they stopped.

 

Everyone eventually tapered off contact, then his dad died, and Melissa had taken over. But, even now, she had stopped her random weekday texts. But Stiles had Derek, so nothing else really mattered. Even though sometimes late at night he wondered what everyone was doing, his days were filled with laughter and smiles with Derek.

 

His life was so much brighter, he can smile like he did before the days of the werewolf debacle. Even if there are days where that darkness in his heart drags him down to tears and anger, and times where Derek can't be anything but silent.. Or those days when one of them can't find the strength to leave the bed, so they lay together for the day, talking or staying quiet. None of it mattered, because it was together.

 

He didn't need anyone else.

 

Stiles is pulled from his deep train of thought when Derek lets out a soft snore, he stifles a laugh and pulls the other even closer.


	3. Evenly Matched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott wants nothing to do with them, Stiles couldn't care less.

The sign is faded, what were once dark green are now washed out and pale. There are weeds and vines climbing the bottom of the gray concrete monument. Stiles thinks back to coming home from summer camp as a child and watching the sign pass, it wasn't brand new, but it was well kept and lively back then. Now it was more of a gravestone than a marker, almost as if the town itself had died.

 

**BEACON HILLS**

 

He pictures the town that would match the gravestone. Decrepit with cracked walls and faded bricks, vines layering walls just like the sign. But, when they reach the main road into Beacon Hills, nothing much has changed. He sees a few new businesses, or old ones moved to different locations. The town was old of course, with its certain antiquity and home-like appeal. Stiles is.... He's a little disappointed actually.

 

Things had changed so drastically in his life, in himself. He had been through trials and battles, accepted his fierce and controlling nature. He wasn't the boy that grew up here... In fact, the boy that left wasn't even the boy that had grown up here. It was only fair that the town changed, as he did. It made him more than just disappointed, he was angry.

 

"I know..." Derek jolts him from his thoughts with his soft tone, he turns his head to glance at him a moment.

 

"It's the same.. It's always the same. When I came back to look for Laura, it was the same. It made me upset, because I was changed so extremely. And this place, my past, hadn't changed at all. It's like you're suddenly out of place in your own environment." Derek explains quietly, eyes flickering across the rows of buildings as they pass. He's stoic now, face a hard mask. The only emotions are the glint in his eyes, that express an old pain, weary and slightly malevolent.

 

"We could still back out, head somewhere else. Anywhere else." He offers with a murmur, reaching out and stroking the hairs on the nape of Derek's neck in an attempt to soothe the both of them. An anchor keeping their feet firmly on the ground.

 

"No, we owe Isaac." He gets out gruffly, Stiles can tell he's not going to be in the best shape for the duration of their stay. He takes a second to remember where he put their bag, reminds himself to put it under the bed once they get to the loft. He didn't even want to go to the loft, but Derek had insisted because paying for an apartment when the loft was there and paid for already. Didn't make much sense considering the Hale family fortune was in his hands, millions of dollars going nowhere. It had been paying for their motel rooms and gas, but they'd barely made a fraction of a dent.

 

"And I always keep my word, unless it has unhealthy consequences for either of us. This doesn't seem too healthy." He knows there is no possible way to convince Derek, his mind was set. He always bent over backwards for Isaac, for everyone...

 

"You have to face your problems. You can't just run away." Derek's eyebrows are dipping a certain way, bordering on the 'sleep on the floor' expression. So he backs down, because this was not the time. They couldn't fight here, it had to be them against Beacon Hills. They couldn't afford to be angry at each other.

 

The rest of the drive is silent, they pull up to the empty parking drive in front of the building. Three floors, ground, empty floor and the loft. They trudge up the stairs, two bags in each hand. The place smells stale, like the cardboard boxes stacked in the kitchen, and the dust coating the white sheets draped over the couch, desk, and bed.

 

"Seems bigger now, more empty." He comments, voice bouncing off the concrete walls. He tilts his head back to stare up at the ceiling, surveys the barren walls. Derek doesn't say a word, simply drops his bag near the bed and turns away.

 

"I'm getting the rest of the stuff." He says without faltering a step, disappearing out the metal sliding door with the sound of his thudding boot steps following him. Stiles yanks the dusty sheet off of the desk with flourish, revealing smooth polished mahogany. He digs through the drawers, finding some pens and highlighters. When he opens a bottom drawer, his heart speeds up.

 

It's a picture, a simple picture on printer paper, the resolution is spotty but the image itself is recognizable. It's a picture from the train station obviously, the train car in the back, a ratty mattress on the floor. Erica's face is the first thing he notices, smiling from close up. A selfie. Behind her, Boyd is reclined on the mattress, sitting up by his elbows with his head tilted back in a laugh. Isaac is sitting next to him with his legs crossed, grinning like a loon.

 

Derek had kept a picture of them, of the second family he had sewn together with a broken needle and a ratty thread. The second family ripped from him, this time at an agonizingly slow pace. He thinks back to those days, which seem like an eternity ago.

 

Derek had taken in the most broken children he could find, not to prey on their weaknesses, but to make them stronger... To give them a home. Because he had wanted a pack as broken as him, to make him feel like he belonged. The lonely stoic, the abused shy guy, the epileptic outcast who just wasn't up to beauty standards... All under the charge of a man who had lost everything.

 

He strokes a finger over Erica's pixelated blonde hair, frowning as tears blur his vision. He only snaps from his silent stillness when he hears footsteps approaching, folding the paper up and shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. Derek walks in with four bags, two in each hand.

 

"Isaac's here." He informs Stiles a little glumly, which is a bit odd, because Derek's usually happy to see his former Beta. Even if Stiles and him aren't that good of friends, he respects the guy, and plus he's nice to Derek.

 

"What's wrong?" He asks with a downturn of his lips, hands pressing to his hips. It was a gesture he had gotten from his dad, a cop's posture, legs parted slightly in a strong stance, hands propped on a belt and ready for duty.

 

"Scott's with him, and he doesn't look happy." He mutters with an eye roll, walking in and setting the bags by the bed. He sinks down onto the mattress, the harsh movement stirring dust. The older man wrinkles his nose and coughs a few times before sneezing. Stiles smirks slightly at the noise escaping Derek's lips by force, rough and deep at first that descends into a squeak.

 

His happiness is put out like a bucket of water on a candle, Scott strutting into the room with a scowl. He storms into the room, Isaac trailing behind him with an exasperated look on his face. Scott's eyes are locked on Stiles, the dark brown gaze boring into him as if it could force him to disappear. Stiles simply leans back a little, putting his body at ease. He sinks his hands into his pockets and sighs, offering his former friend an unimpressed raised eyebrow.

 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Scott demands quietly, Isaac scoffs lightly and crosses his arms. Scott barely glances at him, long enough to glare.

 

"Here by request only, just a favor." Stiles shrugs, he lets his lips stretch into an almost smug smile. Scott doesn't bother him in the slightest, doesn't scare him. In fact, Scott was nothing compared to the things Stiles and Derek had witnessed.

 

"We don't need your favors, leave." Scott hitches a thumb towards the door, a soft chuckle escapes Stiles' lips.

 

"What are you gonna do, run me out of town? For what? Helping you??" He raises his eyebrows, both this time (He had learned the ways of Hale eyebrow communication, fluid in it after all these years.), and lets his smirk turn into a grin.

 

"You left. You don't get to just breeze back in here after three fucking years." Scott's hands are clenched into fists, the tension coming off of him in waves. "If you want forgiveness, you're not gonna get it." He gives a little jerk of his head, crooked jaw clenched.

 

Stiles tilts his head back and laughs, wiping at the fake tears he shed in the process, just to mock the young man. He glances over at Derek, who's simply watching them without expression, calculating and calm.

 

"First of all, Scott McLame." He snorts, moves his hands to his back pockets, hips sticking out slightly. Scott looks even more pissed at his serene attitude. "I don't need your redeeming forgiveness, oh almighty Alpha." He waves a carefree hand.

 

"This is my territory." Scott growls, he steps closer, Stiles stands his ground. Scott's a bit shorter than him, but he holds a powerful stance. "I could kill you." He murmurs, drawing a low rumbling noise from across the room where Derek is sitting. Stiles doesn't take his eyes off of Scott, smiling gently and holding out a hand in the man's direction.

 

"It's all right, Der. He doesn't scare me." He leans in a little closer, they're inches away from each other's faces. Scott's glaring, Stiles keeps up his bright grin. "He's nothing but a little boy throwing a tantrum." Scott reaches out and snags his fists in Stiles' shirt, jerking him a little as his eyes bleed a dark scarlet color. Stiles tilts his head a little, lets the power shift over him, taking in a deep inhale and exhaling softly as his own eyes dye a deep crimson. Scott startles, releasing him and staggering back a step.

 

"What happened to not wanting to be like us?" Scott spits, lip curled back in a snarl.

 

"The option was taken from me." He snaps, losing his patience. "So I took advantage of the situation." The Alpha power feels like his chest loosening, like he was restricted without knowing until he's free. It feels good, like he's walking on air, more powerful than ever.

 

"So what, you ran off with Derek? Ran away from school, from responsibility, from your friends?" He huffs, shaking his head in disappointment.

 

"I ran away from a toxic environment." He shrugs.

 

"Your own father died... He hadn't seen you for two and a half years!" The other Alpha's voice is raising slightly, Derek's growl picks up and he steps forward in Scott's direction, like he's debating charging. Stiles lets his eyes bleed red once more, offering an almost sub vocal noise and an outstretched hand. Derek turns and steps closer to him, lets Stiles' arm wrap around his waist and pull him close.

 

"Let me handle this." He murmurs, kissing Derek's shoulder gently. Scott's offering them both a wary look, two parts confused, one part angry. "We had talked to each other over video days before. We told each other about our day, joked, laughed, said our 'I love you's... And hung up. No more to it." He says simply, feeling the ache in his chest at talking about the healing wound. "I've settled my demons, have you done the same?" He inquires with narrowed eyes.

 

"What are you, Zen Master? You spend three years running around being fuckbuddies with a guy that has the emotional capacity of a rock and suddenly you're all knowing?"

 

Scott suddenly has Stiles' hand around his throat, leaning them forward just enough to where Scott has to hold onto Stiles' wrist to keep from falling back. He lets his eyes flicker over Scott's slightly aged features, teeth gritted together in words he refuses to speak. He lets go and shoves the man, he staggers back into Isaac, who steadies him.

 

"You take as many shots at me as you want. But you leave him out of this." He commands quietly, Scott simply glares at him. "Get out of my sight." He waves his hand, Scott grunts quietly and storms out again, leaving only the three of them. Isaac's quiet for a moment, observing them in silence. Then his soft pink lips quirk up in a small smile, he steps forward hurriedly and lets Derek pull him into an embrace.

 

"Man, I missed you." He groans as Derek squeezes him tightly, it ends with a laugh. When they part, Isaac reaches out and squeezes Derek's arm. "You losin' weight?" He asks with a smirk. The tension dies as quickly as it had been generated, Scott gone, leaving only old friends to catch up.

 

"A little, not working out as obsessively, less muscle." He explains shyly, Isaac grins.

 

"That's great, dude. Shouldn't push yourself too hard." He punches the man in the shoulder gently, before turning to offer Stiles a hand to shake. Stiles grabs it and yanks him closer, using his other hand to pat him on the back. "Good to see you, Alpha man." The young man tells him as they part. 

 

"You as well, you look good. Hipster as ever." He gestures to the other's wardrobe, which includes a scarf, a fashionable gray sweater, and skinny jeans.

 

"You're damn right." Isaac winks at him, Derek and Stiles rolling their eyes in sync at him. "You two are closer and closer every time I see you." He says quietly, more seriously, eyes glistening with happiness. They had never really put a name on their relationship for anyone else, but Isaac could tell from the beginning. In their Snapchats, Skype calls, and texts, he had figured it out. He was glad Derek found someone good for him.

 

"Closer every day." Derek slings an arm around Stiles' shoulders, tugging him closer and kissing his cheek.

 

"I'm sorry for bringing you into this.. But Scott's pack is drowning in this, I don't want it to get out of hand.." He says after a moment, rubbing a hand over his mouth and then dragging it through his soft curls seconds later.

 

"Scott's pack... Who's still here, anyway?" Stiles questions hesitantly, Isaac sighs.

 

"Lydia hangs around sometimes, but her and Jordan are a thing of their own really. Kira and Scott were on the rocks for a while, but they seem steady for now... Liam's still around, although he's a little more rebellious in nature. Him, Mason, and Brett are an inseparable trio. The pack itself isn't even really a pack... It's more of just allies that show up to save each other's asses every once in a while." The young man explains, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 

"True Alpha's pack is in shambles... Scotty boy, what have you done?" He asks softly to himself, looking down at the concrete floor.

 

"You'll help though, right?" Isaac inquires warily, Stiles nods. "Thank you so much." He pulls Stiles into another hug, pats Derek's shoulder and starts backing out. "I have to go meet someone, but we'll be in touch." He races out, disappearing and leaving them in silence once more.

 

"I haven't slept enough for this." Derek grumbles after a second, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

"I say we set up the bed and unpack later. I'm up for a nap." Stiles shrugs, Derek nods, they get to work. Within a few minutes, they're snuggled up underneath a comforter together, drifting off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hope you enjoyed the newest installment! Please leave comments and kudos if you did! :) )


	4. Entering Without Breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technically, they just walked in.

A few days later, it comes through the grape vine (Isaac, duh...) that Scott is having a meeting. The pack are to meet up at Scott's place to talk about the recent threat, which Stiles has yet to hear anything about. Truthfully, it pisses him off a little that Isaac's favor involves Scott Stubborn McCall. But regardless, he is a man of his word, so he shows up to the pack meeting. He watches as figures arrive in cars or on foot, stepping inside the house without a second glance to the figures standing across the street in the dark.

 

No wonder their asses are getting handed to them, they aren't even smart enough to be the least bit paranoid. They cross the street silently hand in hand, sneaking around the back as they listen to Scott call attention to himself in an attempt to silence the others. When he walks up to the back door, he has his claws ready to pick the lock, or thinks about using it to break the lock on the door (But he'd rather go with the first one because Alpha or not, Melissa will kill him.).. But when he grabs the knob, the door opens without resistance. He rolls his eyes and looks back at Derek, who appears just as exasperated at the pack's lack of self-preservation.

 

When he steps inside, he inhales quietly, reminiscing in the scent of what used to be family and safety. Melissa is standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing dishes, when she turns she gasps softly and drops the plate she's holding. Stiles lurches out and snatches it mid-air, pressing a finger to his lips to silence her. She has tears in her eyes as she accepts the plate, setting it down and pulling him into a tight hug.

 

"I missed you." She whispers into his ear, kissing his cheek. He squeezes her back gently, nodding silently. When they break away, she observes Derek a moment, who shifts awkwardly and gives a small wave. While there were some conversations about Derek back in the day, she'd never really gotten to know him that well. Actually, she had only seen him years ago when he was a teenager, from the days of visiting his uncle in the hospital before he left with Laura.

 

Stiles points to the living room, before smiling conspiringly, returning his finger to his lips. She smiles with a small nod, they walk silently to the door. Stiles moves without hesitation, steps right up behind Scott. The man spins around with a growl, hand pulling back with claws at the ready.

 

"Down boy, sorry I'm late. My invite was lost in the mail." He smirks, before looking to the doorway where Derek is waiting for his approval with calm stoicism. "C'mere babe." He holds out a hand and Derek steps forward and intertwines their fingers with practiced ease. "So, what's new?" He inquires, looking about the room.

 

Brett, Mason, and Liam are standing near the front door, like they're thinking about bolting. They look rather different, Mason and Liam are probably eighteen by now, Brett... He thinks Brett was a bit older, maybe nineteen? They've gotten a bit taller, a little less pubescent, but he can recognize them. Lydia looks even more beautiful than before, although her style isn't as flashy, but just as fashionable. Parrish stands next to her, he's the only one smiling at them, waving silently until Lydia jabs him in the ribs and he lowers it. Kira is sitting on the couch with Isaac, Kira looks a little sad, but Isaac is shooting Scott an annoyed expression.

 

"Where's Malia?" He inquires, peering around. "I'm sure she'll wanna pound me when she sees me." He laughs, Lydia's unamused expression turns sour.

 

"She died." Silence overwhelms him, Derek squeezes his hand lightly.

 

"You wouldn't know though, you were too busy running." Scott snaps, steps away from them.

 

"What, you blame me for Malia dying? I wasn't here." He huffs, trying to regain his confidence from that slightly winding blow.

 

"You should have been, though." Scott argues with an angry twitch of his jaw. "You... You abandoned us, you can't just appear and expect it to be all right." That pulls Stiles from his silence.

 

"I don't want it to be all right, okay? I don't need you, I don't want to be friends.. Hell, if I had to, I'd kill all of you without blinking." That startles Scott a bit, his fists unclenching. "I was nothing but a fool to you, you betrayed me Scott... Where's Theo? He turn out to be nothing you expected? Who could have predicted that??? Oh, yeah.. ME!" He shouts, knows his eyes are a scarlet red, losing a bit of control. The tension grows thicker, a few gasps filter throughout the room.

 

"You killed Donovan." Liam speaks up suddenly, looking unsure. "Scott told us you killed him.. You said you had to, is that true?" He asks quietly.

 

"Back then, yeah. I had to, I was scared and weak. He was gonna kill my dad.. But a lot has changed, and I wouldn't regret killing someone if it meant protecting myself.. Or Derek." He turns his head slightly, Derek offers an upturn of his lips. "I've done it before, I'll do it again." He shrugs.

 

"How can you say that? What would your father think?" Scott asks, voice a bit softer, like he's disappointed. It makes him angry, Scott isn't allowed to be disappointed in him. They aren't friends, they aren't brothers.. Apparently they never were.

 

"It doesn't matter what my dad would think!" He barks out a crude laugh. "He's dead, if you didn't get the memo, Scott." He smiles, because even though the loss still aches, he's glad his father doesn't have to see his son like this.. He doesn't want to know what he would think.

 

"You're no better than the things we fight, killing people without remorse." Scott spits.

 

"Wrong, Scott. I am better, because I won't be taken down. I will not fall so easily to your pathetic pack, I will protect what is mine and I won't lose." He promises with venom, lips curled back in a scowl. "I won't lose to a simple threat, because I'm a good Alpha." Scott growls, when he steps forward, so does Derek.

 

"I don't see any of your Betas ready to fight for you, Scott... Do you?" Stiles reaches out and rubs Derek's shoulder gently, the man's threatening growl silences. Scott's eyes flicker about, noticing that nobody had moved at the threat. "Pity... I thought the True Alpha would hold a stronger bond... I guess he just has a stronger ego." He grins, pulling Derek back next to him. "Now, tell me about what's going on.." His voice is calm, but demands obedience, he'd had practice in perfecting it.

 

"You're crazy." Scott mutters with a shake of his head, stepping back. "I'm not telling you anything." He turns his head away, as if to block out his presence.

 

"Scared, Alpha McCall?" He inquires smoothly. "Of a simple Alpha and his mate? What would your enemies say?" He fakes a gasp when Scott turns back and flashes his eyes again. "You gonna escort me out, Scott? Gonna make me leave?" He teases, but then frowns when the man doesn't move. "No... You aren't.. Because you don't have the dedication I do. You don't have the stomach to wound let alone kill, not even to protect your own." He hisses.

 

"I can protect my pack!" Scott shouts, eyes burning with intensity. "I don't have to kill to get what I want."

 

"No.. You just use other people to your will." Scott looks a bit confused, but Derek tenses slightly. "You abused your power, betrayed trusts, I'm not the disgrace here... You are." He turns away.

 

"I don't want you around my pack! You stay away from us, Stiles!" Scott calls to him as he steps through the doorway of the kitchen.

 

"What are you gonna do? Kill me?" He snorts, leaving with Derek in tow.

 

They walk out quietly, the air is chilly as they make their way down the road to their car.

 

"That was a waste of time." Derek comments quietly, Stiles nods as he looks up at the stars. "You just pissed him off."

 

"He's the one pissing me off. High and mighty True Alpha, can't even threaten another Alpha." He scoffs, dropping his head against Derek's shoulder. "We should just leave." He mutters.

 

"They'll come around.. Maybe you should let me do the talking if you can't keep your remarks to yourself." Derek's voice edges on accusing, Stiles doesn't like it.

 

"You think you can do better?" He asks calmly, pulling his head away from Derek. They approach the Camaro, Derek pulls out the keys.

 

"I can compromise without pouring salt into wounds and marking territory like a rabid dog." Stiles slams Derek's chest down against the hood of the Camaro without hesitation, holding him down by the neck. He struggles for half of a second before falling still, breathing heavily. Stiles pulls the keys from his limp hand, not paying attention to his pleading eyes.

 

"I don't like your attitude, take a moment to adjust it." He says quietly, presses the other's cheek against the cold hood of the car, listening to his breaths even out slowly. "We're not going to stick around if this town is going to put you into a rebellious mood." He explains, looking around. The neighborhood is dark and quiet, nobody around. "Stand up." He releases Derek, who straightens out immediately.

 

"Do you think I'm going to allow this blatant disrespect?" He questions softly, trailing his fingers against Derek's jaw. Stiles looks up at his eyes when he doesn't answer, the pale green orbs stare straight ahead. "Derek!" He snaps, the man's eyes focus on him. "Do you?" He looks panicked, heart racing a little faster.

 

"Could... Could you repeat the question, Alpha?" He requests softly, Stiles grabs his chin and pulls his head to face him.

 

"Do. You. Think... That I'm going to allow this _blatant_ disrespect?" He restates heavily, Derek makes a noise close to a whimper.

 

"No... No, sir." He murmurs.

 

"I have half a mind to make you sleep without me." The statement draws out a long whine from the man, his body trembling. "Or perhaps I'll just sleep in the car.. That would fix you up, wouldn't it?" He whispers. "But that's not the appropriate punishment, no.. I have a good one in mind. Get in the car, we're going back to the loft." He says quietly, Derek scrambles to get into the passenger seat.

 

-

 

"Okay... Hit me." He says, as they stand in the middle of the room. Derek flinches, looking startled.

 

"Sir?" He murmurs.

 

"Hit me, hard." He reaches out and grabs Derek's hand, holds it up. "Go ahead, punch me... Slap me, do something." He commands, Derek's eyes flicker from his weakly balled fist to Stiles' face a few times. "What's wrong?"

 

"I... I can't.." Derek admits softly, tears in his eyes.

 

"Why not? You sure had no problem insulting and disrespecting me verbally.. This is just the same, just physical." He says with a wave of his hand. "Go ahead, hit me right here." He taps his cheek, when Derek doesn't move, Stiles frowns. "Isn't so easy like this, is it?" Derek shakes his head slowly.

 

"No, sir."

 

"No indeed.. I'd never hit you, I'd never snap at you with such resolute disrespect... Not seriously, at least.. Not like you did." He shrugs, crossing his arms.

 

"I'm sorry." He says, voice cracking slightly. "Please, Alpha." He shakes his head, he's obviously close to breaking. Stiles sighs and reaches out, he straightens out Derek's hand and lowers it.

 

"What do you need?" He murmurs, combs a hand through his hair.

 

"I'm sorry... Please forgive me." He pleads softly.

 

"Of course, Derek." He pulls the other into a hug, kissing his head and rubbing at his back. "Go take a shower, I'll find something to watch on Netflix." He orders quietly, Derek nods and disappears into the shower. "Door open!" He calls out when the door begins to close, it falls back open without hesitation. He needed to be able to reach Derek in case of a problem, and Derek had a habit of locking the door to the shower that he was still breaking.

 

He gets his laptop and pulls up Netflix, searches for a while. Soon, Derek comes out of the shower, digs through his bag and drops his towel to get dressed into a pair of sleep clothes. He starts to crawl into bed, but Stiles reminds him to put away his towel first. He disappears quickly to put it in the bathroom once more, coming back and climbing into bed.

 

"Keep looking, I'll be back." He kisses Derek's damp hair and hands him the laptop. Stiles gets into the shower and lathers himself up with Derek's body wash, which the man loves. He washes his hair and gets out, shaving the ratty facial hair that was coming in on his jaw line. When he comes out, he puts on some pajama bottoms and puts away his towel. They had gone grocery shopping the day before, luckily.

 

Stiles digs through the food in the cabinets, grabbing some Oreos and a bottle of Pringles. With two water bottles in one hand, and the snacks in the other, he climbs into the bed. Crumbs be damned, Derek deserved this. The man had settled on Bob's Burgers, which they both had taken a liking to. Derek ducks under his arm when he puts a pillow behind his back to sit up, resting his head against his chest.

 

They settle the laptop on their thighs, eating Oreos and the occasional Pringle. Two hours later, Derek's starting to doze off. Stiles makes him get up so they can shake the crumbs from the bed and adjust the pillows. Stiles puts up the food and they go to the bathroom together to brush their teeth.

 

When they collapse back into bed once again, Stiles blankets himself over Derek's back, wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing him gently.

 

"I love you." He kisses the back of Derek's neck.

 

"Love you too." Derek whispers back tiredly, falling asleep seconds later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Okie dokie, it's been recently brought to my attention that I do not talk about Derek and Stiles' complicated relationship. I thought about talking about it but I suppose assuming that people would be able to tell an abusive relationship formed on trauma is different from that of a healthy and sane one was wrong on my part. 
> 
> Derek and Stiles in this have experienced things that gave them certain ideas and thoughts that are completely outside of healthy. Stiles enjoys a power trip, and Derek usually enjoys being controlled. However, Stiles does overstep his bounds and it does relate to abuse. Derek and Stiles never approach this idea because they see nothing wrong with it. 
> 
> I have nothing more to say on the subject, really... )


	5. Relive and Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek helps Stiles deal with nightmares, then they're summoned to the woods by a cry for help.

_"You can't keep me here, this is my mind, my body." Stiles growls at the mummified demonic entity, the empty white space around them makes his eyes hurt and a portion of his brain throb. The Nogitsune is observing him with sharp fangs that drip with thick saliva, even without eyes or a face, he can feel the malice radiating from it._

 

_"I can do as I wish, Stiles. You're weak." The voice is garbled from the fangs, almost as if its talking around a mouth filled with cotton. It grates against his spine and sends shivers through his limbs. "The problem with most attacks, is that they attempt to take out those most important to their opponents first. But the opportunity for strength and resistance to occur is higher in that way. You take out the weaker links... The pawns, the rooks, the knights..." Flashes of people flicker through his mind, one by one, those he once cared for dying by his own pale hands._

 

_A sword guts Kira._

 

_A knife slashes Lydia's throat._

 

_The life leaves Liam's eyes with his pale hands wrapped around a warm throat._

 

_Even Scott, who is disemboweled by his own claws, entrails falling out of his stomach with a nasty noise against his shoes._

 

_Many more appear before him.... His father shot in the head. Taking out the police department with an explosive device that's much more effective. Mason, taken out with relative ease, a rough crack of his skull against a brick wall. Brett follows shortly after, clumsy with rage, heart ripped from his chest. Malia watches him with angry eyes as he tilts her head back, her struggles are nothing against the demon's strength, her blood makes an awful noise when it splatters against the lockers._

 

_"Then, when they have nothing else left.. The king..." His breath catches in his throat as his body traipses around a chair, holding the love of his life. "By that point.. Their resolve weakens..." He holds Derek's stubbled jaw in his hands, smoothing cold palms down his rapid pulse. His eyes beg for mercy, but he seems speechless. When he turns Derek's neck to the side agonizingly slow, a soft sob escapes him._

 

_"Please, Stiles.... You're stronger than this." He pleads softly, a few tears escaping his red rimmed eyes. Stiles feels his heart bursting with despair, he can't take his hands away, can't look away.. Can't stop this.. This can't happen!_

 

_"He's not, not in the slightest..." He hears his own voice say coldly, the Nogitsune speaking for him. "And you're going to pay for his weakness." Derek's head moves in a fluid movement, going slack in his embrace with a deafening crack. He snaps back to life then, hands shaking as they hold his lover's limp face gently. Stiles drops to his knees, shaking Derek half-heartedly, pleas and cries escaping him as he bargains for those pale green eyes to grace him with their focus once more._

 

_But Derek's gone... Because he was too weak...._

 

_"DEREK!" He screams as he shakes the man more violently, angry at the Nogitsune, the world, himself.... He hadn't been strong enough..._

 

_-_

 

"Stiles! Stiles, wake up!" Derek struggles with Stiles' flailing limbs, his mumbled cries paired with tears that drip down the young man's cheeks. When his amber brown eyes snap open, more tears cloud them, pouring out with an accompanying scream of Derek's name. He's used to this routine by now, it's been years and the nightmares never fade, new traumas added to a pile as time passes.

 

He clutches the Alpha, holds his arms against his chest while he shouts and struggles. He whispers softly against his shoulder, rocking him like his mother used to during a bad storm and the deafening cracks of electricity sent him into tears of sensitivity. He runs a hand through Stiles sweat damp hair as his adrenaline gives out, panting and gasping as the panic fades.

 

"It's all right, we're safe..." He soothes, kissing at his temple and squeezing him lightly. Derek allows him to escape his hold once he's lucid, turning around to cradle his stubbled face in shaking hands. It's not the first time he's had a reaction like this, looking at Derek like he had just been brought back to life... Which, in his perspective, might be true. Stiles was tight-lipped about his nightmares, but from context clues, they mostly included Derek dying.

 

"I love you." Stiles says it like a prayer, words falling out of his trembling lips, sniffling as more tears fall.

 

"I love you too." He answers it like a promise, allows Stiles to fall forward and position himself in Derek's lap. Derek leans down, taking the clinging Alpha with him as he reaches under the bed. The bag is flung onto the mattress without resistance, he runs a hand through Stiles' hair as the young man scents at his neck lightly. He only takes it away to unzip the bag, digging through the items.

 

The bag had been created for ease of use, filled with items to relieve and distract. They used it frequently, from the books to read, music to listen to, even a few scented jars when someone falls into an anxiety attack or has a flashback. It was Stiles' idea, they even put a t-shirt from each of them inside. It was swapped out every month to put in a freshly worn one, just in case someone was caught without the other on hand. It was rather ridiculous and at times a bit childish, but it was immensely helpful.

 

"Book or music?" He inquires simply, humming when Stiles decides on music with a soft, fabric muffled murmur. He pulls out the speaker, grabs his phone off the charger on the table at the side of the bed and plugs it in. Derek's memorized everything with practiced ease, turning on the music just a little louder than a murmur. They even have a playlist for nights like this, soft music that acts as a balm on their frayed nerves.

 

Derek settles the music player on the table and lays back against the headboard. Stiles holds him tight and stays draped across his front, face crammed against his pulse point. He draws on the other's back with his fingers, stares at the dark ceiling as the melody of some song fills the silence. It takes a long time before the tension eases out of Stiles' back, grip lessening from a death squeeze to a firm embrace. But he keeps awake, stays still, lets Stiles relax until his heart thumps against his chest in a normal rhythm. That's when he rolls them over and tucks both of them under the blankets once more.

 

Stiles won't separate from him, but Derek doesn't mind. He lets the Alpha splay across half his chest, stare at him with watering eyes in the dark as he rests his head against Derek's chest. He brings up a hesitant hand and combs it through the other's now wild hair, leaning over to kiss at the top of his head.

 

"Promise you'll never leave me." Stiles commands softly, voice hoarse and dry.

 

"I promise I'll never leave you." He complies without pause, a small smile finding his lips.

 

"I'll protect you, always." Stiles promises with fervor, reaching up and stroking at his cheek. "I'm going to be strong enough to keep you safe." He whispers.

 

"You're already strong enough, now sleep." He murmurs, turning his head when Stiles leans up for a quick peck of his lips.

 

"Keep the music on?" Stiles asks quietly, voice catching with exhaustion.

 

"Of course." Derek agrees, rubs at Stiles' back well after he's fallen asleep. He stares and stares at the ceiling above him, listening to the calming tunes coming from the player until his eyelids grow heavy and he too succumbs to sleep.

 

-

 

Derek wakes up to the smell of batter cooking and the sound of the radio, inhaling deeply and noticing the empty space beside him before opening his eyes. The sun is slightly bothersome as he cracks his eyelids open, squinting against the morning light and stretching a bit. He turns over and sees a glimpse of Stiles moving about in the kitchen, humming and mumbling the lyrics to a pop song rather clumsily.

 

He sits up and yawns, running a hand through his sleep tussled hair. The Alpha's head peeks around the corner, eyes alight with joy at the sight of him.

 

"Hey, sleepyhead." He grins, setting a bowl down on the counter and moving out of the kitchen and over to the bed. "Slept like a rock this morning, yeah? I've already had a cup and a half of coffee." He comments, leaning down to kiss at Derek's mouth, who pushes him away to grumble about morning breath. Stiles simply grabs his hands in a simple hold and presses their lips together. When they part, Stiles smirks and settles another peck to his forehead. "Breakfast is almost ready, we're gonna eat in bed because we have no furniture obviously." He snorts, gesturing around them.

 

"Sounds good." He flops back against his pillow with a sigh, Stiles laughs softly and pads back into the kitchen, continues his enthusiastic mumbling of music. "Sleep okay?" He calls out, hears the humming cut to a stop.

 

"Decently." Stiles offers, which, isn't as bad as it sounds. They both had trouble sleeping, and getting even a bit of sleep after a nightmare was a goal that was hard to reach.

 

"We having pancakes?" He asks, instead of pressing.

 

"Hell yeah."

 

-

 

The morning is not wasted, they go out for a run in the Preserve after some prodding from Derek. He leads Stiles through his favorite trails, but the Alpha eventually grows bored and starts a game of rough tag. They end up tackling each other through leaves and twigs, laughing and playfully growling. When they come to a tired stop, they lay back and look at the sky. The ground is hard and slightly cold, biting against their bare calves. The air is chilly, and Stiles finds himself grateful for their hoodie (Stiles) and jacket (Derek).

 

There isn't much noise other than the occasional rattle of leaves, fall settling in and sending the birds down south. But there's the soft sounds of squirrels chattering somewhere in the distance as they bury their food before the ground is too frozen. The pair's breath comes out in clouds of almost invisible white fog, and the blue sky is nothing short of breathtaking.

 

"I missed this..." Derek sighs out quietly, Stiles reaches over and lays a palm over the other's.

 

"We could go running more if you want. There are plenty of parks with trails and empty woods." Stiles says with a satisfied smile.

 

"No, being here... It's..." He falls quiet, when Stiles draws his eyes from the sky and looks to Derek's face, eyebrows furrowed pensively as he searches for the right word. "Familiar." He settles on, turning his head and locking their eyes together. "Brings back memories."

 

"Good ones, I hope." Stiles comments, the older man shifts his gaze above once more.

 

"Not all.. But most." He sits up with a content exhale, Stiles finds himself doing the same.

 

"It's nice, especially with you." He pushes himself into a seated position and bumps their shoulders together, Derek offers him a shy smile. He leans forward carefully, licking his lips and allowing the other to mimic the gesture before pressing their mouths together. It's slow, not hurried or rough, but passionate. When he picks up a cold hand to press against Derek's cheek, a howl echoes through the air.

 

They break apart with duel expressions of confusion and slight concern.

 

"One of Scott's?" Stiles inquires, not used to the sound of anybody's howl but Derek's.

 

"Liam.. I think.." The other is getting to his feet and hurrying down an incline.

 

"Derek, wait, be careful!" He calls out, following behind him in a rush to catch up. Derek's already sprinting away. "So much trouble." He grumbles as he takes off after him.

 

-

 

He doesn't lose Derek entirely, but he's out of sight when Scott runs right into him. There's a pair of matching growls that echo around them as they stare each other down, Isaac jogs into view.

 

"Why are you here?" Scott demands, suspiciously. Stiles gives a warning growl, he isn't going to be accused of any of this.

 

"Why can't you just let me help?" He snarls. "I'm not the enemy here, just accept that!"

 

"For fuck's sake, you two." Isaac snaps, drawing their attention from each other. "Settle your differences later, we have other shit to deal with." He rolls his eyes. Stiles sighs and drops it, decides to focus on the problem at hand.

 

"I was out jogging with Derek, was that Liam?" Stiles questions, both Isaac and Scott nod.

 

"Where's Derek?" Scott looks a little concerned, just a fraction, peering past Stiles.

 

"He ran ahead, I was-" Derek's roar sends chills down his spine, he turns and takes off without hesitation.

 

When he spots a couple of figures, he starts scanning for Derek. Instincts screaming at him to protect, keep safe, defend. Brett is laying on the ground, Liam is sitting next to him and Mason is kneeling by the both of them. He passively observes that Brett and Liam look rather pale, but suddenly zeros in on Derek, who's kneeling a few feet away.

 

"Derek!" He shouts, racing over. He slides through the leaves and dewy grass, grabbing Derek's face and patting him over for injuries. He looks a fraction paler than usual, a slight purpling underneath his eyes that wasn't present earlier. He allows Stiles to unzip his jacket and push it back, hands roaming and nose scenting the air for the smallest hint of blood. The Beta seems a little disoriented, eyes distant.

 

"Are you hurt? What happened?" When he doesn't gain an immediate answer, he growls impatiently. "Cub! Are you hurt?" He demands, the nickname draws Derek's attention immediately.

 

"I'm okay, Stiles." He says with a weak smile, Stiles pulls him forward and cradles his head against his shoulder with a shaky sigh.

 

"Scared me, Der." He laughs half-heartedly, observing the others over the man's shoulder.

 

Scott is looking Brett over, who seems to be alive, Liam too, but they seem lethargic and shaky. Mason looks terrified out of his wits, Isaac's eyes are scanning their surroundings. He tromps over as Stiles stands, Derek simply presses his face against his Alpha's hip and murmurs something about being dizzy. He runs a hand through the man's hair and tries to focus on Isaac.

 

"There were creatures, the boys like to come out here to train... They can't really describe them, nobody can. They see 'em and suddenly they're wiped out, but Mason saw a glimpse of them. All he saw was black figures, too tall to be human apparently." He explains quietly, eyes not stopping their constant search for anything out of the ordinary.

 

"Derek? You see 'em?" He inquires, helps the other to his feet, who frowns as he rises. The Beta promptly leans over and paints the forest floor with his breakfast, missing Isaac's shoes by a millimeter. Worry crashes over him, even as Derek mutters that he's okay and straightens back out.

 

"Tall... Probably seven feet tall.. I think they were wearing cloaks, it all gets a little fuzzy after that." He tells them hoarsely, the Alpha slips an arm around his waist to hold him steady even though the color is returning to his cheeks.

 

"You'll be fine, Parrish got hit bad a few weeks ago protecting Lydia. He was unconscious for two days, came out of it okay though." Isaac pats Derek on the shoulder, Stiles bites back a growl of possessiveness. Derek smiles at him reassuringly with a simple nod, Stiles looks back to Isaac.

 

"How long have they been here?" He inquires, suddenly on edge. An enemy who's barely even observed and can knock down three betas or even a hellhound without a problem is a definite threat.

 

"Not sure, but we think they're connected to a few deaths over the last few months." Scott says as he approaches them, hands in his jean pockets. "People found, dragged from their cars on the highway... They're freezing cold by the time they're found, frozen in place, eyes wide open. Taken deep into the woods, scratches and cuts, no serious wounds. Hypothermia is the COD but we don't believe it." His own eyes are flickering from Derek to Stiles, lips drawn into a thin line.

 

"So what do they want?" Not really a question to them, but to Stiles himself.

 

"Not sure yet.." Scott shrugs.

 

"Anything you _are_ sure of, _True Alpha_?" Stiles snaps, Scott scowls at him.

 

"Stiles." Derek clasps at his shoulder and staggers slightly, Stiles' attention is immediately on him. Scott plants a hand on his bicep when he sways, but immediately removes it and looks away before Stiles can snap at him.

 

"You okay?" Stiles checks him over again without hesitation, lowering him to the ground with care. He's too worried to notice the confiding nod Derek sends Isaac, a diversion tactic to keep the Alphas from each other's throats.

 

"Yeah, sorry, got dizzy." Derek lies, luckily Stiles is too frazzled to hear the lie. Scott kneels down and observes the Beta for a moment, then looks out at the trees.

 

"You should probably get back to the loft, sugar helps recovery.. Isaac, help Mason get Brett, I'll get Liam." The True Alpha says, standing up. The group disappears as Derek and Stiles walk in the opposite direction towards the loft.

 

"Heard of anything like that?" Stiles asks Derek quietly as they walk up the steps, Derek politely ignores the hand at his back for in case he falls (Even though he's perfectly fine, he doesn't mind his Alpha worrying.) or loses his balance.

 

"No, not that I recall." He says as they enter the loft, Stiles disappears into the kitchen as Derek strips his jacket off. He listens to the blender running as he kicks off his sneakers. The smoothies are a little sweeter than usual, but again, Derek says nothing. He simply smiles appreciatively and accepts the forehead kiss Stiles grants him. They kick back and watch Netflix for a while, but Derek can't take his mind off of the unknown intruders he'd come in contact with.

 

The idea of not being able to properly describe something he's been in contact makes him uneasy, reminds him of the memories of Jennifer... That sort of hazy drugged feeling that accompanied her presence and threatened danger, Stiles' words from a day of sharing the sexual experience with the Darach ringing in his ears. _Magical coercion, not consent_. Derek can't help but feel used, and it makes his chest tight to think of the words 'yet again'. He only relaxes when Stiles offers to let him rest his head in his lap, finding solace in the fingers twining through his hair and the sound of That 70's Show playing.

 

Stiles wouldn't let that happen again, he didn't have to worry about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( You know what's great? Comments... Comments are extremely great. I read every one of them to be honest! :) )


	6. Past And Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles returns to the loft to find an alarming sight, then Scott is met with some information on the past.

Derek was hard at work in the loft, having been moving some furniture in, cleaning the place to look a little more representable. Stiles had been helping, but he eventually grew bored and Derek got tired of moving the couch with him laying on it. He was sent to the grocery store instead, which wasn't too bad. He made some faces at a cute baby, who giggled and cooed at him with flailing chubby fingers. A cashier there recognized him, asked him how he'd been.

 

He bobbed his head along to a pop song and screeched the lyrics, even though his voice couldn't be heard over the volume of the music. It was a relatively good day, even though he was on high alert for those tall hooded figures at all times. He hadn't heard anything from Scott, but his phone had started blowing up from the other pack members, usually useless messages of boredom. He ignored them, really couldn't be bothered with them. But some of them made him smile, a joke or a story, so he didn't block the numbers. Isaac kept sending him selfies, which made him laugh because of his exaggerated model faces.

 

"Okay, strawberries were on sale and they look extremely good so I thought we could make some great smoothies with them." He explains as he walks in with two arms lined with plastic bags, stepping into the kitchen as he rambles on. Then, he notices the silence.. Which, even for Derek, is weird. "Derek? You here?" He calls, tilting his head as he tunes his ears.

 

The rapid drumbeat of a heart and weak gasps of air make him rush from the kitchen. Derek's curled up against the foot of the bed, face hidden against his thighs and arms up over his head. There's a rag and a bucket of spilled water just a foot away, Stiles hurries over and drops down next to him.

 

"Derek?" He's a little wary of touching the Beta, he didn't always react positively to touch in times like this. "Cub... Can you hear me?" He asks softly, chest aching to envelop him tightly in his arms to soothe and comfort... But, he refrains, carefully reaches out and touches his arm. Stiles is grateful for his own cautiousness when Derek jerks away and coughs out a sob, he didn't want to be touched. He grimaces when he tunes into a soft murmuring escaping the confines of his little huddled up stance.

 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He repeats over and over again, choking on his tears.

 

"Where are you, Derek?" He questions, shoves his own hands under his arms to keep himself from touching. "Can you tell me where you're at?" They'd both had some seriously disorienting flashbacks that trigger severe reactions such as this. When he doesn't answer, Stiles repeats himself, then again a minute later.

 

"Loft.. The loft..." Derek croaks out, his fingers gripping tightly to his hair in what seems to be a painful hold. Which is... It's good, but it's odd for him to return to reality so quickly.

 

"That's right, you're in the loft... Can you tell me what happened?" He whispers, shuffles a bit closer.

 

"B-Boyd... They... He..." His breathing speeds up again, only distressed whimpers marking short inhale to wheezing exhale. Boyd, he had a flashback about Boyd... His eyes shift over to the water spilled out over the concrete floor, thinks back to the flooded loft and Derek kneeling in a mixture of cold water and crimson with bloodied hands. And now, he's back in this dreadful place, on the floor once more. Shivering and gasping from terrifying memories resurfacing with vivid intensity.

 

"That was a long time ago, Der..." He tries, earning a sob for his effort. "Derek, look at me.." He can't let this go on for so long. God knows how long he's been like this, he could pass out or dehydrate himself or something. When the other doesn't move, he touches Derek's white knuckled hand, ignoring the tightening of muscle underneath the pads of his fingers. "Derek. Look. At. Me." He commands quietly, waiting patiently as Derek's eyes peer out from over his bicep. "Good boy." He praises softly, observing the painful red color the skin around his eyes hold.

 

"C-Can't... Stiles..." He lets out a whine and curls up even tighter, attempts to hide his face again.

 

"Don't hide your face.. Keep looking at me." The Beta's eyes return to his own, there's no blue in his gaze, no sign of the wolf at all. He's tired and scared, too weak to even subconsciously summon his power to protect himself. "Deep breaths.. Long as you can go, big deep inhale." He sucks in his own slow breath as an example, Derek mimics it weakly. "That's it, in and out, keep going until you can pull a whole breath. Count them, don't stop." Derek can't quite achieve the goal at first, breaths uneven and choppy.

 

Stiles coaches until he feels a bit lightheaded, wonders how Derek hasn't lost consciousness yet. Then, when the attack seems to crest, earning a slightly deep inhale from Derek's lungs... The exhale ends with a sob, the start of a wave of tears that begin pull him back towards hyperventilation.

 

"No, no... Derek, listen to my voice." When he doesn't respond, Stiles debates his next move for only a moment before acting. He stands up and grabs Derek under his arms, dragging him onto the bed, he struggles weakly and it wrenches a heart breaking sob from the older man. Stiles pulls his back against his own chest, pinning his arms to his sides and squeezing him lightly. He tightens his hold, listens to Derek's breathing stutter from the bit of pressure, and loosens his grip a little. Derek lets out a cough and draws in a deep breath, releasing it when Stiles puts pressure on his chest again.

 

"Good boy... That's it, Cub..." He murmurs against the other's ear, moves a hand up to his sweat damp hair and combs through it soothingly. "Deep, deep as you can." Derek coughs a few times, his heart starts slowing a bit, he breathes in a little slower. "That's it..."

 

Stiles doesn't move from his spot for about five whole minutes, monitoring every long inhale and relieved exhale that follows. When he leans away, Derek whimpers softly, Stiles clasps a hand to the back of his neck for comfort and reaches under the bed quickly. He grabs out the bag and settles it next to them.

 

"Music or book?" He inquires, hand resting inside the bag. Derek simply drops his head back against his shoulder and nuzzles against his throat, making an indecisive grunting noise. "My choice, then." He looks at the three books inside, before settling on one. He scoots back once more, reaching forward to pull Derek back against him as he leans back against the headboard.

 

"Percy Jackson... Been a while... We leave a bookmark?" He always reads when Derek has an episode, when he always can't decide, when Stiles has to make a choice. It's routine, basic and simple. He flips through until he reaches a page that has a corner folded down. "Here we go." He sighs, settles the book against Derek's abdomen.

 

" _We walked over to the window. On a three-legged stool sat the Oracle- a shriveled female mummy in a tie-dyed dress._ " He begins quietly, focuses on the words as he feels Derek relaxing bit by bit against him. He's not quite sure if he listens, but he stays awake, whether he knows what Stiles is saying, or is just listening to his voice... It doesn't really matter, because he'll listen without a word for about a half an hour before he nods off. He was on the fifth book in the Percy Jackson series, and this wasn't the first series they'd read through... It makes him think of all the times they'd sat like this, just together, Derek calming down to the sound of his Alpha narrating the stories of many.

 

Derek dozes off after twenty-six minutes of reading, Stiles closes the book and sets it back in the bag after marking the page for next time. He tries not to jostle Derek too much in the move to lay down. He ends up spooning Derek, fingers tracing over his stomach and lips pressed to the back of his neck. As he unwinds, he watches the sky beyond the dirty glass panes, makes a decision.

 

They weren't staying in this loft, not when it could result in something as disastrous and damaging as this.

 

-

 

**Four Days Later**

 

"We brought pizza!" Stiles grins as he dances inside behind Derek, who was carrying a few boxes of pizza. Isaac had invited them over, supposedly only Liam, Brett, and Mason were to be attending.. But, Isaac, being the sneaky little asshole he is, had invited Scott as well.

 

"Boys night!" Isaac proclaims with a smile as he grabs a pizza from Derek, who rolls his eyes with an exasperated smirk.

 

"I'm starving, dude." Stiles takes another box as Derek sets the rest of them on the table, both of them promptly ignoring Scott. "I'm hungrier than Derek." Stiles comments smartly.

 

"Lies." Derek snaps, grabbing a slice from Stiles' box. "Plus, I can eat faster."

 

"You're on!" Stiles growls, they both start shoving their single slices into their mouths. Stiles is trying to jam part of the crust into his full mouth when Derek cheers from behind a mouth full of cheesy goodness, closing his mouth around it and doing a little head bob like a challenge. Stiles bites down on his piece and removes the part he couldn't fit, chewing in frustration. When he swallows, he shakes his head. "That doesn't prove anything. Just because you've got a big ol' dick sucking mouth doesn't mean shit." He argues, Derek's ears turn a bright red as he chews quietly.

 

"Like your dick is anything but average, Stilinski." Liam jokes with a grin, biting into his own piece.

 

"Pardon me, I will have you know that I am and have always been nothing but well-endowed." Stiles defends, jerking a thumb at Derek. "Derek knows, don't you babe?" He smiles prettily at Derek, who's only just now swallowing his mouth full of pizza.

 

"It's like... Try imagining the empire state building..." There's a few disgusted groans, but Derek holds up a hand, eyes alight with wonder. "Now minimize it by a trillion... That microorganism is bigger than Stiles' dick." Derek explains, lips quirking into a smile when Stiles gasps in shock and the others sputter out surprised laughs.

 

"He's lying! It's big! I'll show you!" The Alpha shouts, reaching for his zipper, Derek grabs his hand and yanks it away.

 

"Stiles." He grumbles, sending him threatening eyebrows.

 

"What? Jealous?" Stiles coos, reaching out and stroking Derek's stubbled jaw. "It's okay, Bear. I'm yours, only yours." He murmurs, pulls the other over to kiss him passionately.

 

"MY EYES!" Isaac crows as he reenters the kitchen, falling on the floor with a wail. "I'm blinded by the disturbing sight! There's a bright light! Mom?! Is that you?!" He whispers as he stares at the ceiling, Mason kicks his leg and earns a glare from the curly headed young man.

 

"Get up you drama queen." Brett snorts, biting into his crust. Isaac rises begrudgingly, adjusting his shirt and mumbling about his perfect acting.

 

"What are you even doing?" Scott asks, staring down at a piece of pizza on his plate. Everyone goes quiet, Stiles scowls and Derek just looks curious. "I'm not even being a smart ass... Why are you hanging around?" He questions.

 

"Because we were invited." Stiles says with a shrug.

 

"But you said it before... You'd kill us if you wanted to.. We're nothing but leverage at the moment, the second we become useless, you would try to wipe us out." Scott snaps.

 

"Scott, Isaac and Kira are going to die. Who do you save?" Stiles inquires, Scott blinks at him with shock.

 

"I find a way to save both of them." Stiles makes a loud buzzer noise, a small smile stretching his lips.

 

"They both die, because you were fucking around trying to be a hero." He says with a sigh, Scott growls low in his throat. "I'm not crazy, I'm rational.. You can't save everyone, gotta pick your priorities." He explains.

 

"So if your father and Derek were-" Scott starts, Stiles holds a hand up.

 

"My dad's dead, doesn't matt-"

 

"ANSWER THE QUESTION. DEREK OR YOUR DAD." Scott shouts.

 

"Derek." Stiles blinks, reaches out without looking to slide a hand down Derek's arm and clasping their hands together. "Without a doubt."

 

"Me or Isaac." Liam whispers.

 

"Isaac. I owe him my life." Stiles answers easily.

 

"Me or Brett." Mason adds quietly.

 

"Brett, werewolf, he's stronger... A better ally."

 

"Me or my mom." Scott says.

 

"I'd say you, but you aren't really on my good side. Melissa always trusted me." Stiles' glare is cold and hard, his grip on Derek's hand tightens.

 

Everyone falls quiet once again, a tension fueled by rage between the Alphas.

 

"You're sick... Stiles, that's just... That's fucking sick." Scott shakes his head. "You can't weigh and compare someone's life over someone else's." The Alpha mutters.

 

"That's reality, Scotty. This isn't a fairytale, people die... And if you are presented with a choice you'd better be ready. I'd rather save one life than none.. When you're living lives like ours, you learn to choose those who matter the most." He turns his head to Derek, who's expression is stoic. "C'mon Derek, I believe the party's over..." They walk out of the kitchen, step through the back door and disappear into the night without so much as a sound.

 

"Scott, you can't just turn him away. He might be a little fucked up but that doesn't mean-" Isaac starts, voice quiet.

 

"He would kill you if it meant saving Derek. Doesn't that worry you?" Scott demands.

 

"They're inseparable, I don't blame them for loving each other." He shrugs.

 

"There's a difference between love and insanity, and they're past the line." Scott mutters.

 

"They have good reasons, they've been through a lot." Isaac defends weakly.

 

"Like what? Stiles got possessed by a demon... Derek's family died.. Tragic, yeah. But that doesn't justify murdering others because they're codependent." The Alpha snarls.

 

"A fighting ring... In Texas." Isaac whispers, Scott blanches.

 

"W-What?"

 

"They were captured, in Texas... For about six months, forced to fight creatures and humans alike. They adapted, Scott. They adapted to their environment, them against the world... They got out, and couldn't lose that mindset. So just stop fucking whining and get the fuck over it." Isaac's voice raises slightly, fists clenching. "There are worse things than your ego being bruised. We were starved and beaten, forced to kill people to survive." Scott's eyes shine with concern at the word 'we'.

 

"You... You never said..." Scott whispers.

 

"We got out, can't dwell on the past. Stiles taught me that. I went through horrific things and I was only there for a month before the riots. They were there for much longer. Things like that warp perspectives, Scott. You don't return from something like that unscathed, it leaves mental scars. So ease the hell up, Stiles is not an enemy. He's an ally. An ally with some really strict priorities, but an ally." Isaac slams a hand on the table. "And if you can't accept that, you're going to die. And Stiles won't feel any remorse." He shakes his head, tears in his eyes. The Beta turns and storms out the door, leaving the others in quiet once more.

 

"Intense." Mason whispers, Brett and Liam roll their eyes and tug him out of the doorway behind Isaac.


	7. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek cope with their recent confrontations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Been a few days, I know... I'm dealing with some problems lately, my updates should never stop completely... I'm always thinking about writing, I just don't always have the time or energy to do it nowadays... Your comments really make me smile though, offer a bit of happiness to my day.. So thanks for that :) )

Stiles yanks apartment door open, it would have slammed against the wall if it wasn't for Derek's quick reflexes stopping it short. He doesn't even notice it really, just storms inside with clenched fists. Derek tries to keep his cool, knows how much Scott got under his skin. He shuts the door behind them, locks it, and moves a few steps inside.

 

"Fucking Scott, thinking he's so much better than us.. He thinks he has a right to judge me?!" He snarls, kicks the bed they'd moved from the loft and placed in the corner of the room. "He talked about my dad! He's not some saint! He's got some superiority complex or something!" Stiles picks up the book laying on the bedside table and throws it, it flies and hits a wall. Derek flinches with the noise of the impact, stares at Stiles as he pants with the severity of his anger.

 

They lock eyes, Stiles sighs, the fight draining from him.

 

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't let him get to me, should I?" He mutters, Derek simply shrugs. "Don't do that..." Stiles grumbles, stepping forward.

 

"Do what?" Derek inquires as Stiles moves into his space and pulls him close, kissing at his neck.

 

"Become passive when I'm angry at someone besides you..." Stiles whispers, moves up to kiss his jaw. "Like you expect me to take out my anger on you..." He runs his fingers through Derek's hair, pulling him into a firm kiss.

 

"Scott shouldn't be an insensitive dick.." Derek agrees softly when they break apart, allowing himself to be pulled onto the bed.

 

"This okay?" Stiles asks hesitantly as he straddles Derek's lap.

 

"Yeah.." Derek affirms, plants his hands on Stiles' hips while the Alpha wraps his arms around Derek's neck.

 

"Tell me if you wanna stop.."

 

Derek had some seriously bad history when it came to sexual relations, and actually it came into light that he wasn't even clear on certain points of consent. Kate had usually ignored his hesitancy around sex, or his suggestions of slowing down. It got to the point where she didn't even really say anything, just jumped him while he was too scared of being a wimp and too nice to actually speak up.. Really, with his age being fifteen, it was rape... But even if he had been older, it was still without consent. He was never quite adamant about sex with Kate, and then Jennifer had stepped into his bubble and absolutely fucking blurred the lines with her magic.

 

So Stiles was careful with times like this, always looking for tension or hesitancy. He'd even taught Derek about safe words and things like that, even though they never really did anything seriously sexual... It was still important for Derek to feel like he had an out, an escape if things got too bad. He'd never really had that, not for a long time. Stiles wasn't hesitating to give him that again, even if it just was 'just in case'.

 

They climb up the bed, Stiles on all fours above Derek, kissing him softly. They never really did much more than this, though, the term asexual was thrown around on occasion.. But Derek wasn't really firm on the definition, only the fact that most of the time, it made him uncomfortable. They weren't sure if it was from trauma, or just a dislike of sexual intimacy. But Stiles respected Derek's boundaries, which was why Derek had attempted a few things in the past. They'd had some jerk off sessions, only twice had they had penetrative sex... While Derek was assuring his consent the entire time, he really just didn't enjoy it.

 

"Shirts?" Derek inquires, Stiles grins. If there was one thing they both loved, it was making out and half-naked sensual touching... Which really, was just another way to relieve stress and calm down just a bit. To assure themselves of their safety with the presence of each other, an odd coping mechanism, but one that helped in tough times.

 

They both strip off their shirts, and eventually their jeans become too uncomfortable. Boxers and boxer-briefs, though, stay on as usual.

 

Their hands skate across bare torsos and rub along warm skin, slow and lingering kisses keeping their mouths almost completely connected the entire time. When Stiles opens his eyes, the sight of Derek makes his heart flutter. Eyes alight with content and happiness, like they should be. His lips are slightly puffy and bright red, glistening a bit with saliva, which should be really gross but it looks amazing on him like everything else does.

 

"You're so gorgeous." He palms Derek's stubbly jaw, watching his nose wrinkle along with a hesitant smile as his ears and cheeks tint pink. "Not even joking, you're so beautiful.." The Beta fidgets a bit, looking away and laughing nervously. Stiles leans down and kisses one cheek, then the other, presses one more to his forehead. "Adorable." He punctuates with a press to the older man's lips.

 

"I love you." It still takes Stiles' breath away when he says it, because it had taken a while for him to get to the point of admitting things like that. But sometimes it felt like it wasn't good enough, Stiles couldn't express the feelings he had for Derek, they were more than just 'I love you'.

 

"I love you too.." He says instead of fretting, because they know the amount of love they have for each other... Twisted and broken, but still trudging on, together. When Derek yawns, bunny teeth on display, Stiles giggles. "You're tired? At-..." He pauses to lean over and look at the red letters of the digital clock. " -eleven?" He inquires with a teasing smirk, Derek rolls his eyes fondly.

 

"A little..." He admits, staring up at the ceiling past Stiles. "But I'd rather stay up with you." He picks his head up to kiss his chin.

 

"How romantic, you'd rather be tired than not spend time with me." Stiles snorts, laying down atop of Derek's chest and smacking his arm when he fakes a wheeze. "I'm not that heavy.." He mutters as he tucks his face against the other's neck.

 

"Yeah, I guess not.." Derek smooches at his cheek, sighing in content. He slips off of Derek's chest partially, an arm and leg still draped across him, the rest of his body nestled against the man's side.

 

"We're nowhere close to finding those creatures.. We haven't even researched them.." Stiles comments as they lay on the bed together, enjoying the simple presence of each other.

 

"Do it another time." Derek yawns again, turns his head against the pillow. "Tomorrow, maybe.." He mutters.

 

"You sleepin' okay? I know you're getting old but you aren't usually this tired this early.." He mocks quietly, hiding his paternal-like worries, poking the other in the ribs. Derek swats at his hand lightly and huffs.

 

"I'm not even thirty." The man protests with a grumble, Stiles smiles.

 

"You're getting there... Twenty-eight, Bear.. That's pretty old." He grins, trying to hide it when Derek turns his head to glare at him.

 

"I'm not too old to maim you." He threatens half-heartedly, Stiles simply scrunches his nose and kisses him again.

 

"Be sweet, babe. Just worried." He reaches up to pet Derek's hair, smirking when the other kisses his wrist.

 

"You worry too much, Alpha." The word makes him feel content, in control and at ease. "Scott's annoying personality drains me." He jokes, Stiles snickers and hides his mouth against Derek's shoulder.

 

"If annoying personalities drained you, you'd be dead from me." Derek shrugs.

 

"There's parasitic relationships and ones that are mutually beneficial." He receives a slap to his arm for that.

 

"I am not a parasite latching onto you." He scoffs, Derek's lips quirk with amusement.

 

"Nah, but we keep each other balanced. You may annoy me at times, but you're more comforting than annoying." He admits, Stiles' throat closes up a little.

 

"You're stubborn and an asshole.. But you're a cute little asshole that keeps me anchored." Stiles offers in return, Derek nods.

 

"Yes, I suppose... I guess you worrying over me isn't too bad." Derek tells him with a gesture of his eyebrows.

 

"You hate when I worry." Stiles argues.

 

"But I love it when you get that glimmer in your eyes and the way you check me over all gentle... Like I'm special." Derek would never have admitted all of this before... But now, things could be shared with relative ease.

 

"You are special, the most important thing in the world to me. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, I have to worry. It's my job." He slides his hand down to rub the pads of his fingers along Derek's stomach, lighting up when the other makes a rumbling noise close to a purr in response. "My sweet cub... Gotta keep you safe." He murmurs, kisses his shoulder softly. "If you're tired, you can sleep." He offers, Derek nods with his eyes closed, turns his head towards Stiles this time as he rests his cheek against the pillow.

 

Stiles watches his chest rise and fall for a bit, listening to his heart beat in a steady rhythm that slows a bit as he slips into unconsciousness. He keeps up the movements of his hand against Derek's stomach until then, stays up a while just to think and listen to Derek snore softly. Eventually the rhythmic breathing lull him to sleep, forgetting about any anger or unresolved anxiety over the situation.


	8. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad things are happening, Stiles can't take the thought of losing Derek.

"Maybe they were just passing through or something... No deaths have occurred in like a month and a half, and Scott's pack haven't run into them as of late." Stiles says as he chews on the cap of his pen, eyes scanning his computer screen covered with mythology text. Derek is reading a book he'd dug out of the huge chest in the trunk of the Camaro, eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he bites his thumb gently.

 

"They've been around for a while, maybe they're just dormant... Having fed enough or something.." Derek suggests distractedly, sighing when he doesn't find what he's looking for and closes the book with a final thud.

 

"You're going with feeding? What are they feeding on? Body heat?" Stiles inquires, scrolling down the page with a few clicks of his arrow keys.

 

"Maybe..." Derek shrugs as he looks over the pile of books he had brought inside, picking one out and opening it. He rubs at an eye with his fingers, blinking a few times, Stiles can't help but stare. Despite the early bedtime that had been occurring the past few nights, and the fact that Stiles had let Derek sleep in this morning, he still seemed tired. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty and worthless, unable to keep his mate healthy and happy. Also, there was a bit of hurt, because if Derek was having trouble sleeping he should have told Stiles.

 

"You're staring." Derek snaps him from his thoughts, Stiles gazes at him for a moment more, noting the barely noticeable grey color at the underside of his eyes. "What?" Derek wipes at his mouth, frowning intensely. "Something on my face?"

 

"No..." Stiles looks away, scrolls some more. Stiles phone rings and he reaches for it without looking away. "Hello?" He hums as he places the phone to his ear, eyes still browsing the information before him.

 

"Something's wrong, you both need to get over here." Isaac says, tone edging on panic.

 

"What? What's going on? Where are you?" He slides the laptop onto the couch cushion beside him, Derek's looking up from the book he's reading with concern.

 

"Jordan and Lydia's apartment, we have a problem." Isaac mutters, there's a faint voice in the background, Isaac says something that comes out a murmur to his own ears. "I'll send you the address, bring Derek... Scott wants to look at him." Those last words put Stiles so far on edge his heart jumps into his throat, eyes looking over at the man across from him. Derek looks confused, a little alarmed, but maintaining his body composure.

 

"Okay... Yeah.." He hangs up and stands, Derek lifts himself to his feet as well. When he receives the text, they walk down to the car together without a word. The anxiety of the situation is hanging over both of them, Derek keeps glancing at him unsurely until Stiles reaches over and runs a hand through the hair on the nape of his neck to calm him.

 

The apartment is nice, not very far from the one Stiles and Derek had rented. There are cars parked outside, the door is unlocked and as soon as they're inside the place smells of sickness. Stiles feels his stomach do a few flips, Isaac appears at the doorway.

 

"Okay... Good.. Derek's okay!" He turns as he calls it out, heading back into what seems to be a living room as they enter. Scott's kneeling next to a couch, checking Jordan over. The man looks pale and gray, skin covered in a sheen of sweat and hair matted to his forehead. Brett is sitting in a chair, looking a bit haggard with ashen skin and dull eyes, Mason and Liam fretting over him.

 

Scott turns to Derek and stands up, walking over, he plants a hand on Derek's pulse and the other runs over his forehead and through his hair with worried brown eyes observing his face. Derek stands perfectly still, looking unsure of how to react. The extremely personal touching pulls a growl from Stiles, Scott's hands retract as he sighs with what seems to be exhaustion.

 

"An explanation would be nice, because you freaked the both of us out." Stiles snaps, runs his hand over the place Scott touched on Derek's collar bone. He turns his back to Scott, fingers skating along his forehead and curling in thick dark strands of hair as his palm comes to rest on the Beta's forehead. Derek offers him a cautious look, eyes inquiring Stiles to give him any sort of answer or assurance. He smiles calmly, happy to find the man's temperature normal for werewolf standards.

 

"Jordan is sick, we think it might have to do with his run in with the creatures. Especially since Brett started feeling bad yesterday. Liam's tired, but it doesn't seem to be affecting him as badly... We were wondering if Derek was feeling it as well." He explains, Stiles can't help the worried look he shoots his Beta.

 

"I'm fine-" Derek starts to say, but Stiles speaks over him.

 

"He's been tired the last few days, more than usual." He explains, Scott's forehead creases with worry.

 

"Then it's probably because of the attacks. We just aren't sure how this is going to end... How it's going to progress, what it's gonna do... Jordan is caked in sweat but shivering and his skin is cold. He was hit hard, so maybe you guys might react differently.. But at the same time, something tells me that this is just going to get worse..." The Alpha says to them, crossing his arms.

 

"So what happens? Has Deaton said anything?" Stiles inquires, Scott rubs a hand over his face.

 

"Deaton doesn't know what to do either... We can't even treat them because we don't know what's wrong.."

 

Stiles' breath catches in his throat, pulse beating faster with concern over the idea of Derek withering away with his Alpha right next to him unable to help. Weak and helpless like in his dream, Derek dying without him able to do anything at all. Everything spiraling out of his control, it makes his lungs constrict and throat close up.

 

The room fades away as his vision turns murky, legs going numb beneath him. He thinks he loses his balance, but he can't be quite sure, too busy trying not to suffocate, too busy picturing Derek's pleading eyes before his neck snaps. Things muffle out, and he loses track of everything but warm hands holding him tight, he struggles a bit.

 

"-concentrate on me." The voice filters through his panic, low and soothing, demanding his attention. "There you go... You're safe, it's all right..." A scruffy cheek rubs against his forehead and he starts to regain feeling in his hands, the appendages clutching at fabric. "You back?" He blinks his eyes open, feeling tears drip from them and stain his already damp cheeks. His face is pressed against a shoulder, body clinging around a torso that is sitting down. Stiles leans back a bit, finding Derek's face observing him with concern.

 

"I'm okay.." He croaks softly, finding relief in the solid breath he drags in. "Where-??" He looks around, realizing that they're in the Camaro's back seat. He's straddling Derek's lap, knees on either side of his thighs and arms curled tight between them. The position brings a sense of home and comfort, the Camaro smells of their mixed scents and some of the fast food they'd brought into the car. He looks back to Derek, his eyes shining with love and worry.

 

"I panicked, everyone was talking too much, you don't like noise when you're like that. You need quiet to concentrate and calm down, this is quiet." Derek explains quietly, looking slightly frazzled himself. Stiles feels immensely guilty for putting Derek in that place, not being strong enough. Apparently he sees Stiles' expression and doesn't like it, frowning. "I handled it, Stiles.. It's fine." He offers a shaky smile, eyes flickering past the front seats and outside the front windshield. Scott is pacing outside of the car, appearing angry. Isaac is sitting near the front door, face like a lost puppy's.

 

Stiles takes a few more minutes to regroup, dropping his head down to breathe in Derek's calming scent. Then, he carefully pulls himself away and climbs out of the car, noting that the doors had been locked. Scott rushes over, slightly alarmed and frustrated.

 

"What happened?" He demands, hands fidgeting at his sides. "A panic attack? Derek just grabbed you and-" He gestures wildly, before pointing a finger at Derek. "Don't do that again, I know how to deal with panic attacks and-" Stiles grabs his wrist and twists, pushing the offending limb away.

 

"You don't get to scold my Beta, he did what was needed of him." He snaps, feeling irritated and strung out. Stiles turns to Derek, who looks a bit shaken still. He pulls the man close, scenting his neck gently. "My good boy... You did perfectly." He assures, when he leans back he curls a hand through his hair. Stiles turns to Scott, who appears partly angry with a bit of sadness mixed in. Something in his eyes can be akin to nostalgic longing, something in Stiles wants to laugh at his sudden concern.

 

"I was worried..." Scott mutters, Stiles sighs and leans against the Camaro. "I could have helped if it wasn't for him." His fingers grip the cool metal of the frame, not applying his full strength so he doesn't damage Derek's precious car. He bites his lip in thought, thinks of being hurt and Scott pulling Derek away in order to play 'savior' once more. To win back his affections, earn his best friend back... It makes him cringe. He straightens out and pushes off the car, presses a finger against the young man's chest and backs him up. 

 

"If I'm ever incapacitated or hurt in any way and you try to remove Derek from me or undermine his authority in any way.." His voice trails off, emotion welling up in his throat for a moment before he swallows. "I will snap your neck even if I'm dead. From beyond the grave, I'll climb out of hell to take you down." He spits, shifts on his feet as he thinks about getting in Scott's space more. His strength is dwindling though, and even though he's agitated and pissed off, he just wants to go home.

 

"I'm in medical school!" Scott argues, Stiles rolls his eyes.

 

"Yeah right.. Vet school, your mom told me a while back. I didn't realize my dog jokes were taken serious by you." He mutters, Scott's nose scrunches up with annoyance. "Unless Derek asks you for help, you listen to him." He commands quietly, the Alpha's face crumples down into almost disbelief. "That's the way it is, end of story."

 

He turns away to get into the car, listens to Scott's mouth open and close a few times as he searches for something else to say. Finally thinking he's baffled the man, his body relaxes a bit, tensing when Scott's never ending chatter picks up again.

 

"He doesn't need to be taken care of, Stiles. He's a grown man." Scott says with malice, Stiles grinds his teeth as he pauses with his hand on the door handle. The young man is simply trying to fight with him, prove himself right, he's begging to have his throat ripped out.

 

"Your disrespect is grating my last nerve, Alpha McCall. Have Isaac call us if Jordan's status changes, or if Brett gets worse." Stiles lets go of Derek's hand and nudges him away, Derek simply moves around to get into the passenger seat.

 

"Why do you even care?" Scott argues, Stiles lifts a shoulder and smiles lightly at his reflection in the car window. Scott's expression behind him is one of pathetic proportions.

 

"Because if they die then that means Derek could be next, and you might let your Betas die. But I sure as hell won't." The man behind him simply scoffs, crossed arms flexing in discontent.

 

"You make me sick." Scott murmurs, turning away and storming back towards the apartment.

 

Stiles gets into the car and turns the keys in the ignition, hands shaking. He sighs quietly, leaning back in his seat. Derek reaches over and grabs his hand again, lips pressing against his neck in an attempt to soothe him.

 

"I'm not in the mood." He shoulders the man off, regretting his actions when he meets a pair of hurt eyes as he turns his head. "I'm sorry.." He reaches out and rubs the other's shoulder, Derek simply slumps in his seat and stares out the window. Stiles backs out of the parking lot and onto the road, thoughts spinning through his mind. He doesn't head back to the apartment immediately, instead drives around a while.

 

After about ten minutes, he peers over at Derek, who hasn't really moved from his slightly cowering position. He pulls off onto the side of the road and twists the keys in the ignition, sighing. The other's eyes flicker over to him for only a moment, before focusing on the hands clasped in his lap. He's pouting quietly like a scolded child, he takes a hand off the wheel and places it on his arm.

 

"I didn't mean to snap at you, Derek." He apologizes quietly, the Beta nods silently. "Can you forgive me, please?" He requests, Derek's mouth opens for a second before sealing shut with a clack of teeth. "No dice, huh?" Smiling lightly when Derek shakes his head hesitantly. It was moments like this that proved they weren't completely crazy, Derek could still be mad at Stiles.

 

There was a difference between what they had and what they were perceived as.

 

"I was just trying to help." Derek murmurs, shifting in his seat a bit.

 

"I know, it wasn't right for me to give you attitude when you were trying to help." He admits, craning over the console to kiss his shoulder. Dark clouds are filling the sky, threatening a storm, Stiles offers a glance to them before sighing softly. "It's gonna rain, I could make you a nice dinner and we could watch a movie.." The older man's eyes glance up at him, a small smile quirking his lips upwards.

 

"That would be nice." He admits, aiming for nonchalance and missing it by a mile.

 

"I've gone and spoiled you." Stiles grins, accepting the kiss that Derek presses to his lips.

 

"I like it." Derek murmurs when they break apart.

 

"That's good, because so do I." He pulls out his phone when it vibrates.

 

**From Isaac:**

_sorry about scott, he's freaked out._

 

**To Isaac:**

_keep me updated on the betas. if derek gets hurt, I'm coming for scott_

 

When he doesn't receive a reply, he pockets his phone again. They drive back to their apartment, and Stiles makes the best damn pasta he can. They eat at the coffee table and eventually Derek's snuggled against his side and drooling on his shirt a bit as he clings to him. Stiles calls it a win as he smirks at House's immature antics and cards his fingers through his mate's hair.

 

The rain splatters against the windows on either side of the TV, lightning flashing and lighting up the curtains and the dark room around them. Stiles starts to feel tired a bit earlier than usual, shakes Derek awake so they can get ready for bed. They're asleep the second their heads hit the pillows, rain outside a dull roar that occupies the silence of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hope you liked it! Leave a comment below if you did, don't forget to leave kudos! )


	9. In The Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can't sleep, when Derek wakes and attempts to get him to sleep, he reflects on the progression of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hey, guys! Hope you enjoy this new chapter! I really loved writing it, actually! )

Quiet was an old friend of Stiles' that rarely came around anymore, when it did, it brought along anxiety and overthinking. His mind was a constant hum in the silence, keeping him awake in the dead of night. The mattress was decently comfortable, sheets soft and slightly worn. His trusty pillow was fluffed to a nice degree, but all he could do was stare at the back of Derek's head, watch his shoulders shift with every expand of his chest.

 

He had refrained from touching for a full four minutes before he reached out carefully, tugging lightly on Derek's limp shoulder and pulling him. The man turns easily onto his back, nose twitching a bit in his sleep as his head rolls against the pillow. He's a little afraid to wake Derek, who seemed so peaceful as his mouth hung open a bit, revealing his beloved bunny teeth.

 

Stiles gently moves his arm up to rest it on Derek's warm chest, feeling the steady drum of the man's pulsing heart beneath his palm. He realizes then how far they had come, remembering the first night in a motel together.

 

-

 

_When the bus pulls into the station, Stiles is feeling tired and uncomfortable. It had been an entire day of a ride, sitting behind an older gentleman who smelled of sewage and in front of a woman with a crying toddler. His iPod had died about four hours into the drive, he hadn't really had time to charge it in his hurry. When he stumbles off the bus steps, he starts to drift towards the ratty looking building that he can see holds a vending machine._

 

_"Stiles." He turns, finds Derek standing a few feet away, shifting awkwardly. He looks unsure and a bit irritated (the latter is a familiar comfort), fitted in his usual Henley and jeans. There's an ache in his chest that feels like relief, the sight of Derek being okay and his own broody self is the most he's felt like normal in a long time. He sort of has the urge to tell him he missed him, but he shoves it down, knowing that would just make things worse._

 

_"I need food." He says instead, priding himself when Derek's lips quirk up a bit on one side._

 

_"I saw a greasy burger joint down the road, probably sell curly fries." Stiles' face splits into a grin, something that feels almost foreign nowadays._

 

_"I think I love you." He snorts, walking past Derek and towards the parking lot, where he sees the flashy Camaro waiting for them. When Derek gets in the driver's seat, his cheeks and ears look pink. "Having regrets?" He questions, feeling a bit wary of the answer._

 

_Derek is unnervingly quiet for some time as he shoves the keys into the ignition and starts backing out, his eyes meet Stiles' for a nanosecond before they flicker away to peer behind them so he can pull out of the space._

 

_"No, not yet at least." The dry humor lets him settle into his seat, holding his backpack to his chest and sighing softly._

 

_When they make it back to the motel, their stomachs filled to the brim with junk, Stiles is content. He lugs in his backpack on one shoulder and his duffel balanced on the other, dropping them by one of the beds. When he turns back to look at Derek, he finds the man hovering near the door._

 

_"Still as silent and creepy as ever, aren't ya?" He jokes, watches Derek shrug uncomfortably. "Well, that's all right I guess. You haven't changed, it's... Familiar." He explains, Derek nods slowly as he walks over to the second bed and sits down._

 

_"You can take a shower if you want." The man says gruffly, reclining against the backboard and settling his hands awkwardly on his thighs._

 

_"Yeah, I'll do that." He digs through his bag for a moment and heads into the bathroom with his toiletries and clothes. He turns on his phone, finding thirty-two missed calls and sixty-one messages. There are five calls from Scott, two from Lydia, seven from Melissa, the rest are from his father. His father seems to finally be accepting his departure in the most recent texts, including 'please call me later' and 'tell me you're safe when you can'. Scott's range from completely pissed off to downright scolding, Melissa's are mostly the latter._

 

_He shuts off his phone and starts up the shower, staring at his reflection as the smudged mirror begins to fog at the edges. His face is worn thin, purplish tint under his eyes, a sort of deadness in his usually lively amber brown irises. He looks a bit like a zombie, briefly he has a glimpse of the Nogitsune and has to grip the cold porcelain of the sink to calm down._

 

_"What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Stilinski?" He whispers to himself as he strips before stepping into the shower, letting the hot water run down his chest._

 

-

 

When Derek's hand touches his own, he jerks from his thoughts with a start. Derek looks vaguely apologetic, confused and concerned. A mottle of emotions he had never seen on the man's face years before, not so often.

 

"It's five in the morning, Stiles. What's wrong?" He questions softly, his eyes are still squinted with sleep, voice sleepy and rough.

 

"Nothing... I just.. Can't sleep." He admits quietly, reaches up to run a hand through Derek's soft and thick hair. "Didn't mean to wake you."

 

"I'll fix it." Derek says, and it reminds him of Sam from the movie Holes, offering to fix things without prompting. He escapes Stiles' reach and walks into the small kitchenette, the Alpha slinks from bed behind him, a bit curious. He sits on a stool as Derek putters around the kitchen, makes a pot of deliciously rich hot cocoa. They dip cinnamon graham crackers into them, watching the grains swirl around in the dark liquid as they sit at the counter. The entire apartment is still dark, Derek still looks groggy, but they both say nothing as they sip and crunch quietly.

 

Derek is at ease and calm, arms resting against the counter. Stiles tries to remember exactly what had happened between them that let them be so comfortable around each other. How they had become what they are, intertwined with each other's very being. How it had all begun, so very long ago it seemed.

 

-

 

_"Stiles, run." He growls, no, snarls. There's two pairs of glowing eyes staring them down from across the room. Stiles' heart is beating wildly, eyes squinted against the bright lights a great contrast to the dim lighting of the cell they had been occupying for quite some time._

 

_"Where?!" Stiles demands, voice shrill and panicked. The wolves begin to creep forward, it's a man and a woman, both donning icy blue eyes as Derek. There's a dull roar of people above them, but the lights are so bright he really can't see anyone. The area around them is a simple large room, the floors being smooth marble that's stained with patches of dark crimson and scuffed to hell._

 

_"Somewhere!" Derek collides with both wolves, and he tries to simply defend. Yet, the time in the room goes on, Stiles stands shaking and weak as Derek gets torn up but continues to bat the wolves away with all his strength. And when he begins to wane in his efforts, he slips up a bit, the man kicks his knees out from under him. Derek goes down, and there's a painful silence that befalls everyone. He's dirty and bloody, eyes drooping with exhaustion. The man holds him by the hair, tilting his head back slightly. The only sound is quiet murmuring from the lights above and the heavy breathing of the arena occupants._

 

_Derek's eyes meet his for a moment, a little sad, but mostly worried. Like even though he's about to die, he's concerned that Stiles won't last long either. That kicks Stiles into action somehow, his sneakers thud across the marble and he collides with the strange wolf. The surprise of it sends them both sailing onto the floor, sprawled out. They scramble with each other, and Stiles screams when the man is atop him and struggling to pin him._

 

_They make intense eye contact, Stiles' breaths come in rapid succession, hands shaking with exhaustion as they attempt to hold clawed hands back. There's a shriek from not far away, followed by a thud, Stiles cranes his head to look in the direction the man is peering. Derek is standing over the woman, her body twisted in a funny way, wolf eyes having faded into a dark brown. The blood dripping from her throat almost distracts from her empty brown eyes, he belatedly realizes she's dead._

 

_Derek had killed her._

 

_The man storms forward as the noise around them picks up, jeers and howls from the lights above. Derek slams into the man and they roll away from Stiles with blurs of fangs and growls, Stiles simply lays on the ground and stares up at the ceiling far above him. It's drab and empty, dark gray, he can't really see above the bottom of the walls around them and the door they had been pushed through._

 

_He snaps from his stupor when Derek leans into view, kneeling next to him appearing agitated and again, worried._

 

_"Are you hurt?" Stiles has to let the question sink in, tries to get rid of the numb feeling he was experiencing at the moment. He wonders briefly how Derek can be so collected in a moment like this. He shakes his head hesitantly, and the man helps him to his feet. The two strange wolves are laying on the ground, mere feet apart. The man's face is clawed up, one of his eyes punctured into a bloody socket, the other a lifeless blue. He was dead as well, if he couldn't tell from the eyes, the giant hole in his chest with white bits of ribs sticking out at odd angles would have clued him in._

 

_There's laughing and shouting from around them, and then the doors they came through open. Two men come into the room, both wearing masks. One is an old timey doctor's mask, with the long beak-like nose thing. The other is a simple Jason mask, both are eerie and unsettling. Stiles' stomach drops when Derek moves forward to attack, before he can get a decent swipe, a baton slams into the man's skull courtesy of Jason._

 

_He bows under the pain, ducking slightly, when the doctor guy stabs him with a stick of sorts. The sound of electricity is in the air, the smell of burned fabric accompanying it. Derek lets out a weak noise and falls right into Jason's arms, he's stabbed again for good measure. Stiles is dragged by the doctor, staggering under the weight of everything that had occurred in the past few days. He doesn't even fight, can't even think up a witty remark as they're thrown into their cell once more._

 

_He instead sits down next to Derek, who's panting quietly and curled up on the dirty floor. He reaches out without thinking, still feeling numb and not fearing the consequences of his actions. His hand curls through sweaty and sticky hair, Derek whines softly and presses into the touch. He pets soothingly, tries to get his voice to cooperate._

 

_"Thanks." He croaks after a moment, scooting closer to Derek and allowing him to rest his head in his lap. He can't really sleep after that, no matter how tired he is. Mostly because, he realizes with a growing nausea, that they could have died. For their survival, Derek had killed two people. Not that Stiles blamed him, Derek had helped him, no doubt. He was rather new to the game of werewolf, having only been bitten three months before._

 

_Usually his wolf was eager to come out, easily upset and angered. Temperamental, Derek had said. But after days in the dark, no food or water, he had been too disoriented and weak to do anything. He wasn't sure how Derek had gained his bearings so easily, but he needed to learn how as well instead of tucking his tail between his legs. Especially if this was going to be a common occurrence in this hellhole, he couldn't afford to be weak if they could be killed. They had to survive, he's too stubborn, they both are._

 

_"Stilinski men aren't one for fighting, but they'll beat all of the odds if they're against them." His father had told him that at one point, and he had made it his life motto ever since. He may run from a fight or two, but if someone's rooting for their demise, he's gonna prove them wrong. No doubt about that._

 

-

 

Once they've finished their snacks, the sun is beginning to glow through the windows faintly as they return to bed.

 

"C'mere." Stiles is pulled against Derek's side, who pulls the blankets up slightly and curls an arm around him. He nuzzles his face into Stiles' hair, exhaling a quiet sigh.

 

"I'm sorry for waking you up." He mumbles, clenching his hand into a fist around the fabric of Derek's shirt. The man doesn't answer, simply rubs at his arm and pats him lightly. They sit in silence for a while longer, but it seems less lonely and anxious with Derek awake with him.

 

"A long, long time ago... I can still remember, how that music used to make me smile..." Derek isn't the best at singing, if he sang above a low tone, his voice cracked. But he could carry a tune with his soft voice, soothing and comforting, Stiles settles against his side. "And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance, and maybe they'd be happy for a while...." He murmurs, voice vibrating his chest lightly where Stiles' ear presses against it.

 

He lets his eyes close, finding peace within Derek's grasp, not unlike those days so long ago. Searching for warmth and comfort with a weak flame had turned them both into a blazing wild fire, dangerous and unpredictable.

 

"Them good ol' boys, drinking whiskey and rye... Singing 'this will be the day that I die', 'this will be the day that I die'." Derek's voice lulls him into sleep, barely hiding the sound of the birds coming to life in the early dawn light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( The song is called American Pie by Don McLean if you didn't know... What you should know, is that I don't own it! ) 
> 
> ( A sort of glimpse into the past, cool, right? Hope you liked it! Please leave a comment below if you did, kudos if you have time to as well!! Thanks for reading! )


	10. Losing Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott tries to make amends, which stirs a fight between Stiles and Derek. This leads to a de-stressing technique.

Stiles gets a call from the high and mighty Scott McCall himself, almost ignores it, but decides that it could be important if pertaining to the attack and the illness. So far, Derek had been all right, the fatigue had disappeared, and Stiles had started adding it up as stress of being back.

 

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this call, Mr. McCall?" He hums as he wipes at his sweaty face, having been working out with Derek for the past two hours.

 

"Look, we should put our differences aside for a while.. Things are getting heated and I can't be fighting two opponents at once." Scott says, voice careful like he had been rehearsing what he had wanted to say for a while.

 

"I believe that's what I was doing until you decided to stick your wolfy butt into my business." Stiles smiles as he pulls himself on the counter, he reaches over and snatches Derek's water away from him, taking a sip as Derek glares at him. "Sorry babe." He mouths to the other, who simply rolls his eyes and confiscates the water back, grumbling about backwash as he digs in the fridge. Stiles unabashedly admires the view of his pert ass in basketball shorts.

 

"Stiles?" Scott's voice snaps him out of his trance, eyeing Derek up and down once more before turning away.

 

"You were saying?" He sighs.

 

"We have some things to hash out once all of this is over, but for now can we just agree to work together? I'll try not to step on your toes, you help us take these things down." Scott says stiffly, Stiles stares at the far side of the room where books are piled on the coffee table near the couch.

 

"Your ass is being held over a burning flame, Scott. This isn't just a call for peace, it's desperation, which isn't a very strong character trait to be honest. But, you have preservation instincts at least." He accepts a towel from Derek when he walks by, dabbing it across his face. "I accept your proposal, but only with a couple of conditions." He walks over to the couch and sinks into the cushions, feeling the muscle ache from a good workout drain from him on its own accord.

 

"Name your price." Scott agrees.

 

"We go by my plans of action, I say jump, you find a pair of moon boots." He offers a small smile to Derek when the man snorts softly, Derek simply raises his eyebrows and tips his water bottle back to swallow another mouthful as he focuses on the TV.

 

"I can't promise that I'll listen to everything." The Alpha tells him warily.

 

"Every word, McCall, or no deal. You disobey me, and it doesn't kill you, I will." He threatens, gritting his teeth lightly. "My decisions are calculated and my thought process is a lot faster than yours. You don't trust me, you could kill someone..." His hand fidgets on his thigh, irritated and antsy, he tenses a bit when Derek grabs it and holds it. The man brings it to his lips and kisses his knuckles softly, setting it down on his own knee.

 

"I don't care if you get killed in the process, trust me, it's no skin off of my freckled nose." He huffs. "But if Derek or myself gets hurt because you want to play hero, I'll make sure you're delivered to radical werewolf scientists with a bow of your own intestines." He listens to the silence for a few moments before rubbing at his forehead. "All or nothing, Scott. Decision time." He demands testily.

 

"Remember the little boy that stood up to Jackson in fourth grade for making fun of my jaw? A few inches shorter than Jackson, half his size, with all the courage because he wanted to help?" Scott's voice is strong with anger and frustration.

 

"You expect me to weep for your little hissy fit over who I _used_ to be?" He rolls his eyes and drops his head against Derek's shoulder, who simply reaches up and buries his fingers in Stiles' hair. "People change, okay? Get the fuck over it. Now, are you willing to listen to me or not?" He asks, Scott falls quiet once more. "McCall!" He snaps when Scott doesn't answer.

 

"I can't give an honest answer that'll satisfy you. I'll do my best, but I'm not going to turn cold and callous." Scott hangs up with a click, and Stiles tosses his phone across the cushions to the other end of the couch. He throws his torso onto Derek's lap, pillowing his head on the soft leather arm rest. Derek shifts beneath him and rubs his arm comfortingly.

 

"If it comes down to it, will you kill him?" Derek questions softly.

 

"I don't really want to, but I will, if I have to." Stiles replies honestly, staring at the muted TV with weary eyes. "Don't run off alone with him, that's an order. You stick with me while he's around, he could get you hurt." He speaks calmly but conveys his seriousness with his tone.

 

"I can handle myself, Stiles." Derek objects quietly.

 

"Treading a thin line, Derek. You know I hate those words." He doesn't want to move from the comfortable place he's in, but he might have to.

 

"Maybe you don't remember who fought for your ass in that arena." He's suddenly shoved off of Derek's lap, left gaping as Derek stands and tensely walks away.

 

"Hold the hell up, you do not turn your back on me while we're talking." He snaps, Derek pauses at the doorway to their bedroom. "Turn and look at me." He commands, standing up. The Beta turns around slowly, jaw clenched and eyes angry. "Sit and calm down." He points to the couch, watches motionless as Derek trudges back over to the couch and sits down. He crosses his arms and glares at the coffee table. "I'm going to stand here until you're in control of yourself again." He says, watches as Derek uncrosses his arms and huffs a slightly irritated sigh.

 

He waits.

 

He waits until Derek's eyebrows stop dipping down so harshly, when his shoulders unlock and his eyes soften in the slightest.

 

"Speak when you're ready." He permits quietly, tapping his foot.

 

"I'm not completely helpless, St- Alpha." Derek starts, staring down at his lap. "We're in this together, don't act like I can't fight or protect the both of us. I let you do all that stuff because I like to, but when it comes down to it... I'm a good fighter." He shrugs.

 

"I know that, babe." Stiles sinks down to sit on the coffee table, balancing his elbows on his thighs. "Of course I know you aren't helpless, your trust is placed with me for a reason, though. And in doing so, your wellbeing is in my hands. I'm not saying that you're helpless, I'm saying that I don't trust Scott and if you let your guard down around him and get hurt..." His voice trails off for a moment. "It's my responsibility, okay? My job to make sure that you're safe, because that's our agreement, right?" Derek nods silently.

 

He stares at the man for a full two minutes, contemplating his next move.

 

"Okay, colors." He says simply, Derek looks up in confusion. "Blindfold, a few hours of letting go..." He elaborates, watches Derek's eyes light up in the slightest bit.

 

"You're not mad?" The Beta asks hesitantly.

 

"I'm a little agitated that you thought it was okay to storm off like that, because we both know that one of my main rules is communication." He shrugs, before clasping his hands together and staring down at them. "But it was my mistake to make you uncomfortable with my responsibilities. I'm not supposed to be overbearing, and I'm sorry." He apologizes with a sad smile.

 

"It's okay." Derek forgives easily, relaxing in the slightest bit.

 

"Thank you." Stiles smiles, before reaching out and tapping Derek's knee. "Colors?" He reiterates.

 

"Green, but you have to stay with me." Derek says, Stiles nods in agreement.

 

"Of course, I won't leave your side." He promises.

 

-

 

Derek molds to his touch, allowing himself to be adjusted without complaint or resisting. They don't do this often, but it always seems to be a great time to calm down. Derek's anger had lessened over time, but he still had minor outbursts like earlier. This was the best treatment they had come up with, simple and effective. Stiles adjusts Derek on his side in the bed, pulling the covers up over him and placing a pillow at his back.

 

Derek is quiet and pliant when Stiles slips into the bed next to him, wraps an arm under his head and allows the man to adjust against his shoulder. He turns on the TV, keeps the volume low, reaching down to card his fingers through the other's hair.

 

"Good?" He inquires softly, smiles when Derek simply nods before nuzzling against him. Stiles had taken the time to undress him, shower him, and dress him in the comfiest pajamas they had. He was tucked into bed wearing a loose Henley and a pair of boxer briefs, with socks (Which Stiles thought was weird because socks in bed were so weird.) on as well. Stiles checks the blindfold over the man's eyes, making sure it's on tight but not too much.

 

-

 

About an hour later, Stiles removes his hand from Derek's hair and taps his arm gently.

 

"Der?" He whispers, finding no response. It takes him four more tries until the man stirs slightly, and he smiles adoringly as Derek slowly turns his face into Stiles' underarm and hides away from the voice. "Words, Derek." He mutters.

 

"S'good, shhhh.." His words are slurred and sated, fingers not even strong enough to clench his shirt correctly anymore.

 

Stiles wasn't sure if what Derek experienced with things like this was just a serious state of mellow, or something else. They had done quite a few things, most ended with Derek bleary-eyed and out of it. Not just tired, but almost drunk on the calm of the treatment.

 

"I'm gonna go get us some waters and fruit, okay?" He murmurs, Derek makes a soft protesting noise and attempts to burrow into him in response. "I'll only be a second, you can take off the blindfold." He offers, Derek just shoves his face between Stiles' back and the mattress where it rests, clings to him. "I'll talk to you the entire time." Derek hesitantly lets go, Stiles frees himself from the man's grasp.

 

He babbles and rambles from the kitchen as he hurriedly grabs some fruit and waters, returning and pulling Derek into a sitting position... Well, more of a leaning position, chin hooked onto Stiles' shoulder and clinging to his arm. Stiles simply peels an orange and pops a slice into his mouth, it bursts with citrusy flavor and he holds up a piece to Derek's lips. The man opens his mouth when Stiles taps his lips, allows himself to be fed.

 

Stiles grins as Derek finishes an entire orange and pulls his Alpha back into lying down. They spend another hour like that before Derek allows the blindfold to be removed, remaining quiet and pliant for the rest of the day.

 

If only it could have lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Well? It's almost one in the morning, which is usually normal for a school night, but it's Friday so I have no homework to procrastinate. Weekends are my early to bed, late to rise days. So I decided to sleepily write this chapter for you guys and head to bed! )
> 
> ( Leave comments and kudos if you liked it!! )


	11. Darker Than It Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A full moon presents a new face, a new battle, a hysterical mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Trigger Warning for some gore and mentions of suicide. )
> 
> ( Hey-o my pals, been a while I suppose! Sorry, school is really stressing me out and I mostly get home, nap, do homework, shower, then go to bed. Not much time, plus I've been in a perpetually bad mood for about a solid two weeks and since I was feeling better I thought I'd give you another chapter! It's about four in the morning and I've been working since eleven, so I hope it's worth it! )

The full moon has been a very odd experience for Stiles, even after so long, it feels new each time. According to Derek, it's sort of like that for most wolves when they can control the shift. Stiles can't really remember his first few full moons, but they had been spent tied down in an old warehouse Derek had found a few miles from their hotel. He had gained control all at once, rather than slowly and a bit at a time.

 

It seemed to perplex Derek at first, but now they really didn't talk about it, and Stiles didn't ask.

 

In the mornings he awakens to his shirt clinging to his chest with a slightly uncomfortable sticky sweat. His joints feel stiff and his usual rapid heartbeat seems to be slowed and held back, life as if someone had turned down the volume. He had to admit, the Alpha shift was much more than his previous Beta shift, which was rather short lived.

 

While as a Beta, it was more of a pent up energy feeling, this was like a wall was blocking him in, the only way to relieve himself would be later that night in the light of the moon.

 

Stiles took pleasure in scenting Derek throughout the day, simply leaning into his space when they crossed too close and rubbing his hands or face across Derek's skin delicately. It never failed to make Derek smile shyly, blush on the tips of his ears, and kiss Stiles softly on the cheek. It was the simple things like this that they took pleasure in, full moons were normal and familiar.

 

What would happen that night, was not.

 

Stiles knows that running in Scott's territory warrants a fight, but he didn't believe that Scott would wish to fight with him. Last he knew of, they didn't even spend full moons in the woods like a majority of packs did. The teenagers spent them doing regular things, holding back and penning up that itch that should be released.

 

This is what separates animal from man, that primal urge when commonly unleashed can intertwine with the human side of oneself. Or at least, that's what they had learned in their own personal experiences. Back in the arena, where they were wolfed out so often that it was hard to separate the sides. Werewolves are a joining of man and wolf, locked together in one being. But to sew the seams together, not knowing where one ends and the other begins, that is how one becomes the most powerful.

 

Derek lets out a carefree laugh that rings through the trees, music to Stiles' ears as the cool night air rushes past them. The leaves crunch beneath his feet, his own giddy bark of laughter escapes him as he leaps over a root that sticks out from the ground.

 

Once they've run far enough into the wilderness, Stiles kicks off his shoes and sheds his shirt. He casts a sideways glance in Derek's direction, who's a few feet away, already shirtless and shimmying off his jeans. His tan skin glows in the moonlight, a small smile on his face unconsciously as he drops his underwear, caught in the feeling.

 

"You're gorgeous." He grins to Derek, who looks up at him and smirks.

 

"So are you." He agrees, picking up his clothes and hanging them in the fork of a tree. Stiles does the same with his own, walks over to Derek and pulls him close. The wind is chilled and sends sparks of cold excitement up his spine, bones aching to shift into the wolf. But he refrains for a moment, taking his time to slide his calloused hands across Derek's hips and fitting them into place on the small of his back. He feels the shivers crawl through Derek, stares into his icy blue eyes.

 

"After you- " He pauses for a heated kiss, parting with a lick of his lips. " - Cub." He whispers, bows slightly and holds his arm out. Derek shifts much easier than Stiles ever has been able to, graceful in his ways. His body melds into its other form, covered in raven black fur and strongly built. The wolf turns and steps back, blue eyes observing him with interest.

 

Stiles doesn't like this part, as good as the relief is afterwards, he still dreads this part. Derek calls it _electi mutationem_ which is apparently latin for something akin to 'chosen change'. It's not very common that a non-born wolf can fully shift, rare even. His body wasn't born with the ability to shift that way, merely adapted to the wolf DNA, and in doing so has to force his body structure to conform to its own rules on the full moon.

 

His bones crack and shift with a deafening sound, he cries out and drops down onto his knees, grits his teeth and breathes deeply. His change happens not as gracefully, everything forming slowly, it takes almost a full minute, which feels like an eternity. Derek waits patiently, and soon they're facing each other. All pain dissipates with the last of his change, leaving only an exhilarating happiness that wells inside him. He lets out a gleeful yip, trots forward to butt heads with Derek, they rubs each other's faces on one another's necks.

 

Stiles doesn't know a lot about what he looks like in wolf form, but he knows according to Derek he has much softer fur than his mate which is a dark brown. He's leaner, but taller in the slightest, which he had noticed. They tussle a bit, rearing up to paw at each other, mouths open and biting barely hard enough to harm.  Derek bites his ear playfully and shoves him gently, turning and racing off into the trees. Stiles takes off after him, giving chase.

 

He uses his long legs to race along after Derek, much more graceful in wolf form, slipping between trees and bushes as he follows the other's scent. Soon he catches up, speeding up in the slightest and slamming right into his mate, they roll together, nipping and biting with playful growls. Soon he's atop of Derek, who lays on his side panting, offering his neck as a sign of submission. He nuzzles at it and nips at it gently, stepping away from him.

 

He observes the woods around them, the crisp air and the crinkling leaves of the trees, threatening to fall at any moment given their warm colors. His eyes become distracted as something passes through the trees out of the corner of his eye, he turns and focuses, eyes sharp and suddenly on alert. He growls, feels Derek's presence get closer, standing a few steps back.

 

The figure is fitted in black attire, or it seems to be in the shadows. He snarls out a warning, in case it's a civilian, but his mane rises with the electric tension in the air that tells him it's not just a lost hiker.

 

"Look what we have here..." The figure slips between the trees, zigzagging in and out of view as it comes closer but stays in the shadows. The voice seems to be masculine, but he can't be sure, it's got a sort of wave of dissonance to it. Like the voice holds its own echo, a vibration field as it escapes the figure. "Two little wolves, an Alpha and his Beta." The figure steps slightly out of the shadows, Stiles catches more of its appearance.

 

A dark cloak is draped over broad shoulders, body fitted in a pair of loose black silk pants and a buttoned up vest. He feels a little disturbed at the sight of the red bowtie tied around the figure's neck, unable to see a face because of the hood from the cloak.

 

"You're not Scott McCall..." The voice is curious, intrigued, the figure crouches down and pushes back the hood. A young man, rather handsome, actually. He has dark brown hair, which is closely cropped everywhere but the top of his head where it hangs slightly to the side and a strand falls onto his forehead. His dark green eyes observe the both of them with comfortable ease. Stiles stops growling, not sure exactly why, unsettled by the man's presence, but not exactly threatened. "No, you're much stronger, aren't you?" The man's thin lips quirk up on one side, hand reaching up to scratch at his cheek.

 

He feels Derek shift slightly, body bumping into Stiles' ever so slightly. The man's eyes leave Stiles' gaze and focus on his mate, causing Stiles' growl to pick up once again.

 

"You were in the woods, with McCall's Betas..." He points at Derek, shaking his head with a small smile.

 

Stiles is extremely confused, the figures that visited were multiple, and had white faces, were seven feet tall. This was not what he pictured, it didn't make any sense.

 

"They fed off of you, didn't they?" He inquires, drops down to his knees and sits back on his heels. He doesn't seem in the least bit stressed about Stiles' threats and warnings. "Savages, can't tell the difference from one being to another. Keep running into mortals and sucking all the life out of them in one go." He sighs, looking a bit frustrated. "They aren't supposed to kill, they weren't made for that." He tells them with conviction, before biting his lip.

 

Derek steps forward hesitantly, next to Stiles, then forward a bit. The Alpha growls, wary of the man which seemed to give off waves of power, Derek stops.

 

"Your mate, then." The man smiles, and he looks just the slightest bit kind, almost wistful. "I give you my word, I won't hurt him. I always honor my word." He says with a nod, his heart remaining steady and calm. Stiles still doesn't trust, so he steps forward a bit instead, better him than Derek. "Why are you here, then? Driving through? Visiting friends? Family?" He's asking questions he must know he's not going to get answers for, but he seems the slightest bit lonely to Stiles.

 

Derek slinks forward a little closer, the man carefully holds out his hand, Derek sniffs it and then licks it before sneezing. Stiles sniffs the other hand, which smells of concentrated magic, he sneezes himself.

 

"Strong, yeah? Like cologne, those who have good noses tell me that." He shrugs, wiping his hands on his pants. "My name is Kellen, I'm a mage." He introduces himself, looking back and forth between the wolves. "I realize it's the full moon, I must be disturbing the both of you. Rude of me, I know, but you're the first ones not to attack me around here. Alpha McCall's pack is pretty violent, you know?" He mutters.

 

"Those things, they-" His voice dies out when a roar vibrates through the trees. "Oh dear." He whispers, standing up. "Not again." He curses quietly in another language Stiles can't place, before he takes off running. Derek and Stiles share a glance, before they're off to find their clothes. Stiles trips twice while trying to shimmy his jeans on, Derek gets dressed faster and takes off.

 

"Derek, damnit! Get back here!" He snarls, throwing his shirt on and racing off after him.

 

They track down Kellen's scent of magic, following it a long ways before they reach him.

 

"Stupid! You're not supposed to kill!" Kellen's shouting, kneeling over a lifeless body. Just a few feet behind him stand three tall figures, all clothed in light brown cloaks. Their skin is pale white, hands long and bony with long grey claws at the ends of them. Their faces are slightly obscured, but Stiles can see their mouths, all hanging open, gaping darkness inside. Stiles and Derek step forward hesitantly, wary of the creatures. Kellen looks up at them, distraught.

 

"They're ignorant, they don't know any better. They were simply supposed to feed off of creatures that could have their life force siphoned without causing damage. Instead they take too much, or go after humans!" He appears devastated, angry, shaking the young man laying on the ground who's face is pale with lips a light blue. Stiles' breath catches in his throat, hand automatically reaching out for Derek. His mate's shoulder collides with his own, their hands clasping together in a tight grip. Stiles can't bear to look Derek in the eye, listens to the older man's breath hitch.

 

"Isaac." He croaks, Kellen looks up with wide eyes.

 

"You know him?" The mage's bottom lip quivers in the slightest, Stiles nods solemnly. "A human?" He inquires softly.

 

"A wolf... An old friend." He whispers, Kellen frowns down at the pale face. His lips twitch, thin eyebrows bracketing downwards.

 

"Leave!" The fury in his voice makes even Stiles jump, Kellen turns and stands, waves his hands at the creatures. "You pathetic excuses for creatures! Leave me!" He demands, they simply stand there. He snarls in frustration and thumps one on its long cloak, it moves back in the slightest but returns to its spot. "I said, leave!" He commands, voice echoing with the intensity, the creatures turn and seemingly float into the darkness.

 

"We'll have to call his pack, he had been visiting." Stiles can feel his throat filling with a tension that threatens tears.

 

"I can... I can fix him, maybe.." Kellen says, dropping back down onto the ground. "He hasn't lost all of his warmth, I could maybe- " He glances up at them both, sorrow embedded in his gaze.

 

"Try, then." Stiles says softly, feels a flame of hope flicker in his stomach. Derek's hand grips him tighter, but Stiles bears it.

 

Kellen drops his hands down on Isaac, one on his forehead, the other on his chest. He starts mouthing something, which builds into a whisper, a chant, which grows louder by the second. The words clash together with a fluidity that sends that magic electricity through the air. Not Latin, maybe Greek? He's still not sure.

 

Stiles isn't sure if they're connected, but the wind picks up suddenly, blowing insistently as leaves spin through the air and rattle on the branches of trees.

 

Kellen continues his chant, until his eyes flame a bright purple. Stiles doesn't know what to feel, wants Isaac to come back, but can't help and feel like it won't work. When the chanting begins to die down, and Kellen looks disappointed, he feels his own stomach weighted with that same feeling.

 

"I tri-"

 

Isaac gasps weakly, they all jump as the young man wheezes and coughs, the blue hue of his lips dissipating. Derek moves forward, tugging Stiles along with him. He drops onto his knees and smiles as Isaac's eyes open weakly.

 

"You're alive..." He murmurs, curling a hand in the Beta's curls. Kellen sits back, his face is alight with pride, but he seems a bit pale and tired.

 

"You okay?" He inquires, Kellen nods weakly.

 

"Anything to save a life." He smiles softly, Stiles can remember a time when he was like that, remembers exactly what killed that part of him.

 

"Isaac!" Scott comes racing out of nowhere, Stiles and Derek stand. Kellen simply looks back for a moment before returning his attention to Isaac, who was still breathing shallowly. "Get away from him!" Scott storms forward and grabs Kellen by the back of his cloak, tears him from the ground and throws him.

 

Stiles shoves Scott in retaliation, growling a warning. The air grows thick and there's an eerie moaning that picks up suddenly. Liam and Brett are racing from the trees with Parrish behind them, looking healthy as ever.

 

The moaning grows louder, making goosebumps rise on Stiles' skin and his hair stand on end.

 

"I can't control them..." Kellen says from his spot sprawled on the ground weakly. "They do as they wish, run for your lives." He shouts, waves a hand as the tall figures appear without warning. One grabs Scott with a bony hand and slams him into a tree trunk with a heavy thud. Suddenly there are too many things going on at once, many more creatures than before, at least eight. Stiles watches one go for Isaac, has to step in to intervene.

 

Everything is a blur of movement and noises, snarls, growls, moaning, the crunching of bones and the slicing of skin. Stiles hasn't seen this much bloodshed since the arena.

 

When a pair of bony hands grab him from behind, he struggles and grasps at the large hands as his feet leave the ground. Another creature comes forward, and Stiles' vision blurs as the moaning gets louder. It feels like it's coming from his head, echoing out of his ears for his own hearing to pick up. He struggles to the best of his ability, but finds that moving his limbs is suddenly a trial.

 

Everything starts to cover with black fuzzy spots, he's never been colder in his life, everything begins to fade out. He gasps out Derek's name through a mouthful of cotton, eyes tumbling back in his head as he loses consciousness.

 

-

 

Derek struggles with one of the creatures with the help of Liam, a clawed hand digs into his stomach and he feels nausea rise in him before he tastes blood. He struggles away from the hand, which grips him tight and slams him right into Liam. They both tumble to the ground, weak from fighting and the energy sucking that came with just being near those things.

 

Then, everything gets quiet. Derek sits up, wincing at the pain in his abdomen, he presses a hand against his wound. It's bleeding sluggishly, he feels lethargic and tired, it won't heal until he's back to full health.

 

His eyes scan around them, where everyone is in different stages of ruin from the fight. All hunched over or laying on the ground, but not a creature in sight. Kellen is stumbling across the grass, looking weak and sick, heading towards someone laying on the ground.

 

"STILES!" He screams, scrambling to his feet despite the pain. Waves of panic and fear fill him, Kellen seemed so drained already, how could he revive Stiles after all this? So many things ran through his mind at once, he collapses onto the ground with a sob, hunching over Stiles' immobile body. He's cold, heart not beating, chest not rising. The bond he clings so very tightly to is out of his grasp, empty even.

 

A hand touches his shoulder and he lashes out, grabs, pushes, fights, claws. In a blur of tears and force, Derek gets thrown onto the ground on his stomach. He struggles as his hands are pinned behind his back, a heavy weight on his back that keeps him held fast.

 

Stiles, he has to help Stiles. Has to see him, has to aid him in some way. Or if that's not enough, he has to have his hands free to slice his own throat open, to die beside his mate. He'd never continue living without Stiles, sobs as he pleads with that missing link and finds no trace of the bond.

 

No sign of Stiles, no sign of the thing that was keeping him steady and at ease.

 

-

 

_The air is humid and musty as they're pulled into the ring once more, they step towards the middle without prompting. Two wolves are already waiting for them, a Beta and an Alpha, a challenge._

 

_It doesn't take much for Stiles to subdue the Beta, reaches down and grips its throat, tears flesh from muscle with a gnarly ripping noise. Blood sprays, soaking his already stained t-shirt. He turns slightly when he hears Derek cry out, alarm filling his instincts._

 

_Derek goes down, held fast under the weight of an Alpha which is attempting to pin him still. He turns Derek over onto his back, they claw and snarl, the Alpha pulls back, ready for the final kill. The crowd is screaming, the reigning champs will go down today, that's what they believe._

 

_But they're wrong._

 

_The man's neck makes a satisfying crunch as Stiles sinks his claws into one end of his neck and drags them through the muscle of the throat. He tears through cartilage and bone with some difficulty, wipes his bloody hand off as the man falls over, crimson soaking the dry dirt beneath them. Stiles pulls Derek to his feet, tugging him close and hugging him._

 

_Derek tucks his face against Stiles' neck, gasping shallowly as he recovers from the battle._

 

_"You're okay." He soothes, finding the control and authority inside him and pouring it into his voice. "I've got you."_

 

_The crowd is cheering and shouting, Jason and the Doctor come for them. They walk towards the doors without a fuss, Stiles keeps his arm around Derek's waist as they approach._

 

_"Congratulations, Alpha." The Doctor tells him with a chuckle, Stiles feels the realization fill him with a slight panic. He looks back at the dead bodies in the ring, peers down at his bloody hand._

 

_He had killed an Alpha.... He was now an Alpha wolf._

 

_They settle down in their cell once returned, Derek is quieter than usual, clinging to Stiles like he's a lifeline. It must have shaken him, Stiles thought they were past that, but he understood. Sometimes, it just shook them to their cores, certain fights more traumatizing than others._

 

_He presses his lips to Derek's greasy and blood matted hair, sighing softly._

 

_"I'll protect you, I promise." He doesn't mind taking charge for once, finds it almost soothing._

 

-

 

He wakes feeling heavy and boneless, body aching and tired.

 

He tries to call out for Derek, but his mouth can only form a gibberish word starting with D.

 

"Stiles?" A voice, definitely not Derek, which doesn't please him at all.

 

"Whe's Der-k?" He croaks out miserably, shifting a bit. "D-Dek." He tries again to no avail, coughing when the dryness of his mouth hits him. A hand cups the back of his neck and lifts his head, the fingers aren't the right size to be Derek's, he sips at the cool water from the cup that's pressed to his lips.

 

"You're really weak, you should rest." Another voice, still not Derek. He growls weakly, vulnerable and without his mate. "Maybe we should get him..." The same voice says.

 

"No, he was completely out of his mind. He'll stay there until he can prove he's sane enough." The first voice snaps, making Stiles a little more concerned and angry. He cracks his eyes open, hissing at the bright light that assaults him. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, swatting when hands touch his shoulders.

 

"Derek!" He calls out a little more strongly, feeling a headache starting to form in the back of his head. He's dead tired and wants his mate, where is he?! He blinks a few more times to clear his vision, he's in a bed. Not his bed, no, Scott's bed. He turns his head automatically to his right when his mind catches up, scowling at Scott. "What the fuck is going on?" He demands roughly.

 

"You got hurt." Liam says from his other side, looking at him sheepishly. "You've been out for a while."

 

"Where's Derek? Kellen? Isaac?" He snaps.

 

"Is that the guy from the woods?" Liam says at the same time Scott answers. "Isaac is fine."

 

"Where's Derek?" He repeats, not happy with the previous answer.

 

"He thought you were dead or something, he started freaking out and we had to seclude him from everyone else... For everyone's safety." Scott tells him calmly.

 

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Stiles snarls, shoves at his shoulder weakly. "Where?" He commands.

 

"He's fine, Stiles. A couple of cuts on his stomach, he's fine." Scott assures him, Stiles shoves the covers off his legs and stands up. "You shouldn't be up." He grumbles as Stiles tries to shake the stiff lethargy from his bones.

 

"Where is Derek?" He starts walking, out the room and down the hall, calling the man's name. "Derek? Derek!" He shouts.

 

"Stiles!" Kira stands from the couch when he enters the living room, he glares at her.

 

"Where's Derek?" He says simply, she's silent as her shoulders hunch up slightly, but her eyes glance toward the kitchen. Stiles connects it immediately, walking through the kitchen doorway and looks around. He turns and walks to the door that leads to the basement, opening it. "Derek!" He calls, racing down the steps. His blood pumps with worry, wondering why they wanted to keep Derek from him so badly.

 

The second he sets eyes on the man, his stomach rolls with panic.

 

"Derek..." He drops down next to the mattress where the man is laying, cuffed to a pipe. There were so many things wrong with the picture, so many things that made Stiles tear up as he shakes Derek gently.

 

The man hated being tied down, often had flashbacks of torture. He was pale and gaunt, dark purple was the color of the skin around his eyes. His wrists were covered in dried blood, must have yanked on the cuffs until it tore skin. The mattress beneath him was ripped up, the wall closest to the pipe he was cuffed to had claw marks on it. Stiles swallows the bile in his throat as he shakes Derek again.

 

"Cub? Baby, wake up." He whispers, tears drip down his face, he lifts his shoulder to rub at his face with his fabric covered shoulder. Derek stirs slightly, coughing roughly. "That's it, Cub.." He smiles as best he can when the man's eyes open, Derek jerks into a sitting position, makes a grab for Stiles but is yanked back by his handcuffs. He whines quietly, tears welling in his eyes as he focuses on the metal around his wrists.

 

Stiles reaches over and massages his neck to soothe him, reaching over and using all of his barely there strength to break the cuff. Derek falls into his arms, hugging him tightly and breathing shallowly like he did that night in the arena. Trembling and traumatized for a whole new reason, Stiles holds him close and runs his hand up and down his back.

 

"What happened, Derek?" He inquires softly, Derek squeezes him a bit tighter.

 

"Y-You were gone.. Jus-Just gone, and they tried to- So I- and they- " His voice wavers in and out as he stammers out a non-legitimate answer, Stiles shushes him and sighs.

 

"It's all right, I'm here." He murmurs, listens to the feet stepping down the basement stairs.

 

He's going to kick everyone's ass for this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hope you enjoyed this new chapter! Pretty heart-wrenching, right? Well, until next time! Leave comments and kudos if you can, I love every one of them! )


	12. An Ass-Whipping Of Excellent Proportions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is pissed, Derek is shaken to the core, and Kellen is missing. So much death is in order, but can he commit to those actions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Trigger warning for mentions of suicide, once again. )
> 
> ( Welcome back! Enjoy this tension filled chapter! )

"I've killed men for less than this!" He snarls at Scott when the young man reaches the bottom of the stairs, Stiles turns and immediately is met with Derek pressed at his back. He wants to maim, to tear throats out and scare sense into everyone else. They never should have done this, done exactly what Stiles had specified not to.

 

"He was hysterical, dude." Scott defends, waving his hands about. "What else were we supposed to do? Let him kill us?!" He demands. Stiles reaches back a bit, Derek crawls forward a bit, fitting himself under Stiles' arm and clinging to his side.

 

"I understand that Derek can be a little violent when he's without me, but you still fucked up big time." He shakes his head, Scott gapes at him. "Was someone down here with him at all times?" The young man blanches. "Did anyone try to calm him down? Make sure he wouldn't completely mutilate himself in the process of freaking out!?"

 

"Well, no, but- " Stiles cuts him off.

 

"Did anyone update him on how I was? If I was even alive?!" He snaps, Scott's mouth opens and closes a few times. "How long has he even been down here, Scott? How long was I out?" He questions, rage bubbling inside him.

 

"Just like... A day..." He says quietly, footsteps stop Stiles' complete mutilation of his former best friend. He looks to the stairs, where Liam peeks around the corner of the wall.  The young man seems hesitant to say anything, but when Stiles gives him an expectant look, he speaks.

 

"That guy, he sort of pushed his way inside and won't leave... Kelly or something." He explains quietly, Stiles huffs.

 

"Kellen, bring him down. Scott, I banish you, go away." He waves his hand, Scott scowls at him and stomps upstairs with Liam.

 

Stiles scoots back on the mattress, allowing Derek to scramble into a position between his legs, reclined against Stiles' front. He wraps his arms around Derek's waist and nuzzles his neck, kissing up his jaw and cheek. He pauses only when Kellen descends the stairs, face lighting up at the sight of them. He's wearing a t-shirt and jeans, looking so civilian compared to when they had last met.

 

"You're alive! I'm so glad to see you!" He grins, moving forward and dropping down onto the floor in a cross-legged position. "It's been so long, I was sure there were only going to be body bags leaving here." He explains with a small frown. "Your mate was rather distraught when it happened." He says quietly.

 

"How long since it happened?" Stiles inquires, wondering if Scott had told him the truth.

 

"Three whole days, your mate was howling up a storm for a while.." Kellen says, features lined with sympathy. Stiles' blood boils, Scott had lied, what a hypocrite.

 

"I'm sorry, love." He whispers to Derek, rubbing their cheeks together and kissing his jaw when he pulls away. "I owe you, you saved Isaac... You must have saved me as well.." He says quietly, Kellen shakes his head slowly.

 

"You fixed yourself, lad. I had nothing to do with it, McCall's wolves chased me off... I tried to help, but they were trying to control him and figure out what to do with you... I wasn't about to impose." He shrugs with a sigh. "Couldn't even get close to you." He mutters.

 

"Well you saved Isaac, then... So I owe you, one favor. Call it in, whenever." He assures with a nod.

 

"I don't think that'll be- " Stiles cuts him off with a shake of his head.

 

"It's better to have me on your side, don't you think?" He questions, Kellen nods. "I'll give you my number later, ever in trouble, I'll come to help. I won't leave myself in debt to someone else." He says.

 

"I don't think it's very smart to trust someone with any request." The mage tells him solemnly.

 

"That's up for me to decide, do you already have something in mind?" He inquires.

 

"I want you to help me destroy my creatures..." He says quietly.

 

"Your creatures? You created them, then?" Stiles asks.

 

"To increase my power, but they're far too dangerous. I'd rather be powerless than put any more lives in danger.. They've finally stopped somewhere, this place is filled with magical energy and they plan to drain it for all it has." Kellen tells him with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

 

"Then I'm working two favors with one task. That's the reason I'm here, to rid this town of the creatures for Isaac." His blood runs cold at the name, glancing around. "Isaac, where's Isaac?" He questions, the young man never would have let them treat Derek like this.

 

"I'm not quite sure, but he left with your group... Alive, well, barely." Kellen looks around as well, before standing. "I could go ask, for you?" He suggests, Stiles pushes at Derek until the man stands.

 

"Stick with us, I'll get you my contact information and then you can be off until next time. Derek needs to be tended to soon." He explains, leading Derek along, who's been extremely silent for the longest time. His eyes look a little lost and sullen, empty almost.

 

"All right, then." He nods, follows them up the stairs slowly, Stiles leads Derek up a step at a time. He clings to Stiles' arm, moving jerkily and trembling with every movement.

 

"Where's Isaac?" He calls out as he reaches the living room, Liam and Mason are sitting on the couch.

 

"He's asleep in the guest room... He hasn't woken up yet." Mason tells him hurriedly. "Are you two okay?" He asks hesitantly.

 

"Fine, no thanks to any of you." He snaps, moving towards the stairs in search for his clothes, noting that he was dressed in nothing but sweatpants.

 

"We told him not to." Liam says, making Stiles pause.

 

"Told who not to what, exactly?" He asks without turning to face them.

 

"Scott... Derek was out of his mind, screaming and crying, we didn't know what to do... Scott made us hold him down at first, and then he had to help us drag him to the car.. We thought you were dead at first.." He explains quietly, shifting in place.

 

"You told Derek I was dead?" He demands, tilting his head to look back at them.

 

"No, well, sort of..." Mason sighs. "We told him that he needed to calm down because you were in trouble. And Scott sort of snapped at him and ended up slamming his head into the car door to knock him out." He admits. Stiles' fists clench, fury rising in his chest. "Once we got back here, you were dead, no breathing, nothing..." His voice trails off and Liam pats his shoulder, picking up his train of thought.

 

"We took Derek downstairs, set him on the mattress.. We thought it'd be better if he wasn't near your body, so it wouldn't freak him out." The Beta tells him quietly. "But he woke up and wanted to see you, started freaking out again. He threatened to kill himself, dude." Liam's eyes are wide and startled. "Shouting about if you were dead, then he was too... So we didn't want him to hurt himself." He mutters.

 

"Scott told him once we got him handcuffed that you were dead, and he..." Mason sighs.

 

"He lost it." Liam finishes it.

 

"We didn't know what to do, he yanked both his shoulders out of place like three times at one point." Kira says as she comes from upstairs, hesitant as she walks past Stiles. "Then you started breathing again, and we wanted to tell Derek but..." She bites her lip, cautious. "Scott said he didn't want to get Derek's hopes up, so we left him down there until we were sure."

 

Stiles stands there for a moment, eyes flickering between the Kitsune and the Beta, Mason shifts closer to Liam.

 

"Derek, I'd like you to stay here." He whispers softly, grabs one of Derek's hands gently in an attempt to remove it from his arm. Derek whimpers pitifully, clings to him a bit tighter, Stiles settles his palm gently on one of the hands attached to him. "Derek, you're going to stay with Kellen, Kira, Liam, and Mason." He informs him quietly, pulling his hands away as gently as he can. He looks to Kellen, who steps forward carefully and smiles.

 

"C'mon then, lad. Your mate has some business to attend to, he can handle his own don't you think?" He smirks, Derek grudgingly moves over to the couch with Kellen, sits down and stares at Stiles.

 

"I'll be back." He heads upstairs without another word, finding Scott in Isaac's room. "You're a dead man, McCall." He slams the young man against a wall with force, listens to the drywall crunch beneath the force of his skull's impact with the wall. "I should kill you where you stand, feel free to plead for your life." He whispers.

 

"Stiles, I don't... We were trying to help.." Scott murmurs, squirms in his grasp.

 

"You are nothing but a narcissistic bully with a savior complex. I wouldn't grace your shoes with my spit." He snarls, shakes him roughly.

 

"You were dead! What else was I supposed to do?!" He demands, eyes glowing red, Stiles flashes his own in retaliation.

 

"I was dead, but then I started breathing again. You said nothing. You let Derek maul himself in grief for three fucking days and did absolutely NOTHING!" He shouts, throws him across the room and into a bookshelf, which topples over onto him with the impact. Scott pushes it off himself, standing up slowly, and then rushes forward. They tumble out of the door together in a ball of claws and fangs, snarling and growling at each other.

 

Scott kicks him off and he goes sliding down the stairs, hitting the ground with a painful thud, the young man leaps down and Stiles kicks him in the chest where he tries to land. He slams back against the stairs with the air knocked from him, Stiles stands and falls against him, pins his arms beneath his own knees. The young man struggles wildly, mouth snapping open and closed with fangs ready to tear at flesh it can't reach.

 

Stiles rears back, claws ready to kill. It reminds him of the arena, finds a manic laugh working its way from his throat.

 

"Survival of the fittest, Scott McCall... The True Alpha is nothing but a weak young man, without the ability to lead." He whispers, grabs Scott by the hair and tilts his head back to bare his throat.

 

"Stiles... Please..." Scott gasps, wild in his attempts to get loose. "Don't do this."

 

"Stiles..." He turns his head a bit, finds Kira looking at him with tearful eyes. "Please... Think about what you're doing.. That's your best friend." He barks out a laugh.

 

"Best friend, best friend?!" He grins, looks back down at the Alpha. "This idiot isn't worth my friendship, I see that now." He mutters.

 

"What about his mom?" Liam asks, a bit of anger in his voice. "Don't you love her? She's been like your mom since you were little." Stiles tenses up in the slightest. "To take the life of her only child, how will she feel?" He demands.

 

"It doesn't matter, all that matters is me and Derek... He's compromised everything." He says.

 

"If your decision is final, then why are you hesitating??" Kellen questions from behind him, Stiles blanches.

 

"You don't want to kill him, you don't want to kill anyone. You've just adapted to that answer, if someone hurts you or Derek, you kill them.... That's how it was, wasn't it?" He looks up to find Isaac sitting on the top of the stairs, looking drained, but lucid. "I get it, Stiles... After so long, that mindset sticks with you... You killed anyone who hurt Derek, but it's different here." He argues.

 

"Nobody hurts Derek." Stiles feels tears well into his eyes, thinking of waking up to find that Derek had killed himself with the false knowledge of him being dead.

 

"But will killing him fix Derek?" Isaac questions.

 

"It'll ensure he doesn't again." His claws swipe down in a quick movement, a strangled cry works from Scott's throat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( So, what do you think? Leave a comment below telling me whether or not you think Stiles will kill Scott, and if he should or not! We'll see what happens in the next chapter! Hope you enjoyed! )


	13. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles ends it with a swipe of his claws, then heads home to care for his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( I'm dreadfully sorry for such a long period of time between chapters. I've been slim on time with homework and school going on, if I'm not doing either, I'm asleep. But I refuse to abandon my stories completely, so here's a new chapter! )

His claws don't make much noise this time, the simple cutting of air and the soft slice of flesh. Scott cries out in shock, fear, then falls quiet as Stiles stands.

 

Scott stares at him with one eye, bringing a hand up to slow the bleeding of the claw marks that trail across his upper cheek across his left eye and forehead. Everyone is quiet, the tension would be thick for even Stiles' claws to cut through.

 

"You have this idea that you know best when it comes to everything. You can make decisions and even when you're wrong, it was all for the best. You always had the best morals, Scott." He whispers, wiping his hand off on his pants. "Saint Scott, better than everyone... That, is why I left." He shakes his head. "A better son, a better friend, a better person. Much better than pathetic human Stiles Stilinski." He mutters. 

 

Scott is silent, doe eyes staring at him with incredible intensity. Stiles almost wishes he could go back to the days before, when he trailed behind Scott like he was the world.. Back when Scott McCall meant everything to him.

 

"We used to be there for each other, no matter what. Don't act like my leaving was some betrayal, you walked away from me that night. You made that decision, not me. Derek was there for me, he was my only friend then." He turns and holds his hand out, Derek walks over to him and takes it gently.

 

"You act like I'm some monster, and hell, maybe I am. But I am more loved than I've ever been." He pulls Derek close and kisses his cheek softly, smiling at the older man. He then turns his eyes to glare at Scott once again. "I've always found that my claws leave a rather _permanent_ mark. So maybe you should remember this the next time you try to fuck with me, I don't take things like this lightly." He turns towards the door, leading Derek along.

 

"As for the rest of you, maybe you should have a talk with your Alpha. You obviously have things to settle. C'mon Kellen, we should go." He says simply, and walks out.

 

-

 

Kellen parts from them in the woods, wishing them good health and safe travels home. When they arrive back at the apartment, Stiles gets Derek into a much needed shower. He washes the man gently, slowly, takes his time with soft kisses and touches in between. When they get out, he towels them both off, and shaves Derek's overgrown stubble. Once his facial hair is merely reduced to a mild shadow, they retreat into the bedroom.

 

They don't say much, besides Stiles' occasional directions, he directs Derek into bed and tucks him under the covers. He whips up some simple sandwiches and their usual smoothies, concentrated on much needed nutrition. He wonders if they'd even tried to feed Derek while he was down there, but even if they did, he wouldn't have eaten.

 

But when he returns, Derek is curled up with only the top of his hair visible poking from the blankets.

 

"C'mon big guy, gotta eat." He informs him quietly, settling a tray on the end of the bed. He climbs in on his side, combing his fingers through the visible tufts of damp hair. "I made us smoothies and sandwiches, you gotta be hungry." He pats the lump in the blankets, he thinks it's a shoulder. When he gains no response, Stiles pulls the covers away to reveal Derek's face.

 

He's a little pale, but now his cheeks are ruddy and the skin around his eyes is splotchy and pink from irritation. Derek's glassy eyes glance up at him, and Stiles' heart breaks a little at the soft sniffle that escapes the man. He slumps down, dropping his head to Derek's level, and kissing his nose.

 

"Remember that promise I made you? I'll always be here for you, I can't die, because I have to protect you." He whispers, pressing another kiss to the man's forehead.

 

"You were dead." Derek's voice is hoarse and tired, he hadn't really said anything since the basement.

 

"But I'm here now, I came back, just for you." He assures, burying his face into Derek's freshly washed hair. "Now come on, eat." He kisses him again on the hair, leaning back and sitting up.

 

"I'm not hungry." Derek says simply, and Stiles almost sighs, but he can't wither underneath his mate's stubbornness.

 

"Derek, I'm not playing around, okay? Sit up and eat, please." Derek does as he's told, sits up sluggishly and takes a bite from his sandwich. "Go slow, I know you haven't eaten much.. Don't have to get it all down, just some." He assures, pulling his head to the side to kiss his temple. Derek needed the affection, especially now. Derek drains most of his smoothie, only manages one half of his sandwich. Stiles himself finishes all of his smoothie along with a half of his sandwich. He puts the tray off the bed and allows the other to lay down once more.

 

They twine their legs together and lay face to face, just staring tiredly at each other. Stiles' eyes start to grow heavy, and luckily, he notices Derek's lids slipping closed as well. He reaches out and tugs his mate forward into his arms, to shelter his head under Stiles' chin and hide his face against his chest. He rubs at the man's back soothingly, feeling content in the moment.

 

They had survived, like they always did, like they always would. With those final thoughts, Stiles drifts to sleep, listening to Derek's steady heartbeat.

 

-

 

Stiles is pulled from sleep when the body next to him flails, but for the first time in forever, it's hard to surface completely. He sits up a bit, realizing that Derek was no longer on the bed, but standing next to it. His face bright red and tears fresh in his eyes, Stiles blinks away the deep sleep he had achieved. Derek shifts slightly, crossing his arms and sniffing quietly while he blinks away his tears.

 

"You okay?" He asks groggily, Derek nods. "You don't look it, what are you doing?" He pats the bed.

 

"N-No... I think I'm gonna..." He runs a hand through his hair with a wavering exhale, glancing around. He doesn't finish his statement, simply rubs up and down his arms and shifts on his feet.

 

"You need the sleep, come back to bed." He says in return, laying his head back down and watching him.

 

"I can't... I just... There's too much to dream about.." He whispers, makes a choked off noise that he bites down on along with his bottom lip.

 

"We've had this conversation before, Der." He sighs, blinking his eyes tiredly. "C'mere." He sits up all the way, patting the bed more insistently. Derek gives in and crawls back onto the bed. "Mind taking your shirt off?" He inquires, Derek observes him in confusion for a moment, but removes his shirt. "Okay, lay down, on your side... Show me your back, there ya go." He falls back against his pillow, reaching out with gentle fingers to draw aimlessly along the skin of his back.

 

"Just relax, stop thinking so much." He murmurs, moving a bit closer and throwing his arm over his waist and continuing his soft invisible designs along his stomach and chest. Derek shudders in the slightest, but his face turns a little into his pillow. His distress draining away slowly, Derek's breathing slows in time with his heart, going slack under Stiles' touch until he's under.

 

The Alpha continues until he himself is falling asleep, hand growing heavy. He pulls the blankets up a bit more, fitting his leg between Derek's own, and tucking his face between the pillow and the back of Derek's neck.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hope you guys enjoyed the new installment! Leave comments below and kudos if you did, love you guys! )


	14. Creating A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek meet with Kellen to figure out how to take down his creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Guess who's back with another chapter??? That's right, me! Bet you thought I'd given up, bet you thought this work was abandoned. WRONG SIR! I'm right here, and I won't quit. Enjoy the new chapter! )

"The forest isn't safe anymore, it wouldn't be wise for you to find my camp." Kellen tells him over the phone, Stiles peers over at Derek, who's recovered with unexpected ease in the past two days. He's reclined on the couch, feet thrown over Stiles' legs and reading a book. It was almost like nothing had happened, then again, maybe this was nothing compared to what they had already experienced.

 

"Where should we meet then?" Stiles questions, Derek glances up only for a moment, before peering back down at his book once more. Stiles' hand falls to rest on Derek's ankle, thumb caressing it gently.

 

"I don't mean to impose, but perhaps your place?" The man suggests on the other line, Stiles frowns a bit, could he trust Kellen?

 

"You aren't going to accidently lead your monsters back here, are you?" He asks instead, Kellen makes an odd noise.

 

"No, not unless you attack me. If I'm not in danger, they have no reason to leave the safety of the Preserve." The mage explains coolly, Stiles finds it believable.

 

"Okay, yeah, you can meet us here." He agrees.

 

-

 

"I'm so very glad to see you both doing well." Kellen grins at them when Derek lets him inside, peering around for a moment. "Quite the place here, I suppose you have something more permanent back wherever you've come from?" He questions, Stiles really doesn't like prying questions, but it would be rather difficult to find most of their hideouts.

 

"A few.. Some forest cabins, a couple of apartments.. Spread out all over the country." He says, Kellen looks impressed.

 

"Sounds expensive, didn't think either of you had jobs." He says, sitting down when Stiles gestures him to.

 

"We have some money put away." Derek says cryptically, and they sit across from him in some chairs. "But we're not here to talk about that." He shrugs.

 

"Of course, don't mean to pry. Just curious. The creatures." He agrees.

 

"Now I'm going to need exactly how you made them, any weaknesses they have at all, and where they stay." Stiles explains.

 

"I can give you the spell, the ingredients.. I have yet to find a weakness they have, while they protect me, if I try to harm them in any way they don't hesitate to fight back. As for where they stay, all I know is the Preserve, maybe near the ravine." He shrugs.

 

"Well hopefully the spell can reveal something, I can call in some help... Hopefully this won't be too much of an ordeal." Stiles says, leaning back in his chair.

 

-

 

"Yes, of course... Rosalee, it's fine. We're in California, being a state away does not call for assistance. We can handle ourselves." Stiles says into the phone as he writes on the notebook page before him. "Tell Monroe and Nick that we'll stop by on our way to Washington after this whole thing blows over." He says with a sigh.

 

He pauses as he listens to the woman speak, watching Derek walk into the room and start digging through the fridge, pulling out a water.

 

"Derek, say hi to Rosalee, she's worried about us." He hands the phone over, Derek rolls his eyes and takes it with a small smile.

 

"Hey, darlin'." He grins, it's Stiles' turn to roll his eyes, Derek had charmed Rosalee from the start. She probably treated him better than her own husband, which was saying something, because she was goo-goo eyed for Monroe just like he was for her. "We'll be just fine, got it all handled. I'll see you when we pass through." He smirks when Stiles mouths 'suck up' to him.

 

"Okay, gimme the phone before you two elope." He confiscates the phone, Derek laughs as he walks away.

 

-

 

"All right here we go." He mutters to Derek and Kellen as they approach the ravine. "You're sure this is where they stay, right?" He whispers, Kellen shrugs.

 

"This is where a lot of energy comes from, they like to stay in caves and dark places... Maybe an in cropping or something of the sort." He explains, a long staff in his hands.

 

Derek is holding the papers for the spell, he's the best with Latin. All they have to do is say the spell and start fighting, it should weaken the creatures and make them vulnerable to their blows. It seems so easy, which is why Stiles is so on edge. Nothing was ever easy in their world.

 

Nothing ever changed.

 

-

 

The spell is completely foreign to Stiles, he had never really taken to Latin. When Derek starts to speak at the sight of the creatures, it's more of a comfort to know that this would somehow weaken them. The creatures started up their odd howling and screeching, attacking swiftly.

 

Kellen and Stiles go after them, holding them off when they try to go after Derek, who is dodging and weaving when one gets too close. He keeps up the chant, words steady and concentrated.

 

"Your mate is quite good with incantations, perhaps he should take up magic!" Kellen says over the roar of the creatures and the sounds of their fight.

 

"Over my dead body, he's got enough bad luck as it is." He scoffs, and knocks away another creature. Kellen's staff sharpens into a blade with a glow of his eyes, and he jabs it into a creature's chest region. Its howl is ear piercing and they're thrown back against the wall of the ravine. Stiles watches Derek roll across the dirt floor, the papers knocked from his hand.

 

"Get the papers back to Derek!" He shouts, Kellen runs across the ravine and Stiles charges with claws blazing.

 

The first one he slices through, it gives a moan and the cloak flutters to the ground without the creature wearing it in sight. There are still more though, and one knocks Stiles over with a bony claw. It tears through his flesh with the impact, leaving a terrible burning sensation behind as he hits the ground.

 

"Stiles!" He hears Derek shout, and then there's an unfamiliar roar. His vision weakens as the pain in his chest increases, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. It feels like he's burning from the inside out. Derek leans over him, eyes glowing their icy blue. "There's so much blood." He thinks he hears Derek's voice say, but once his eyes close, he's lost to the rest of the world.

 

-

 

Waking up, Stiles realizes he's still in the ravine. The sky far above is a mix of purples and oranges, signaling sun setting. His chest stings and itches, and when he sits up, his skin feels stiff. There's blood coating most of his chest, dried and flaking all over his shredded shirt.

 

Stiles takes a look at his surroundings, and realizes that he's not alone. Definitely not alone. Isaac and Kellen are standing together a few feet away, chatting quietly. They both look haggard, roughed up, but they aren't the only ones. Lydia is tending to a wounded Parrish, Brett and Liam are fretting over Mason, who seems to have quite the cut on his hairline.

 

He spots Scott, still brandishing the claw marks Stiles had gifted him with. They would most likely scar, if Stiles meant it to when he inflicted them, they would. He's resting against the rock wall, Kira by his side and cleaning some wounds on his shoulder. Stiles turns a bit, to look down the other end of the ravine, gasps softly when he finds Derek laying on his right.

 

"Der?" He murmurs, a little fearful. But Derek's not dead, no doubt about that, his chest rising and falling from where he lays. There's a streak of blood that leads down his temple all along his jaw, but no visible wound. He seems okay, color on his face, no serious wounds.

 

"The creatures are dead." Kellen's voice snaps him from his staring, turning to look up at the man who had approached him without his notice. "Your friends saved the day, came in just as things seemed bleak." He informs him with a smirk. "Not such bad people after all, yeah?"

 

Stiles looks past Kellen's legs at Scott, who was smiling gently at something Kira had said, holding her hand.

 

"I guess not." He mutters.

 

-

 

Derek wakes up after a few minutes, a little disoriented from a blow to the head, but otherwise okay. Stiles talks to him for a bit, but night is beginning to fall and they must start heading back.

 

They climb out one at a time, and they walk into the dark in companionable silence. When they reach their cars at the edge of the Preserve, Derek nudges Stiles over to Scott.

 

"Scott, hey man... Can we talk?" He says quietly, Scott nods with a small smile.

 

"Beacon Hills is safe again." Scott says to him, before frowning a bit. "For now, at least." He shrugs.

 

"Thanks... I mean, for coming to the rescue and all of that.. I guess I'm not as great as I thought." He admits quietly.

 

"It wasn't a three man job, that's all.." Scott shrugs. "I'll admit, what I did with Derek was stupid. I wasn't really thinking about the consequences. When Derek left, he was so much different. So were you.. It made me angry that you had changed so much without me changing at all." He says.

 

"Change isn't always good, Scott.. I wish I could go back to being the person that left here. It'd be a hell of a lot easier." He murmurs.

 

"Isaac told me.. I'm sorry, I wish I would have known." He reaches up and touches his scratch. "It would have saved us both a lot of pain." He laughs dryly, and Stiles gives him a wry smile.

 

"I guess so." He sighs. "No hard feelings right?" He holds out his hand, shakes Scott's warmly. "Until next time, yeah?"

 

"You aren't staying?" Scott's face crumples slightly. "But you said that we're cool." He objects.

 

"I don't think Beacon Hills needs an Alpha like me.." He shrugs.

 

"We could always use the help." Kira says from her place next to Scott's car.

 

"Yeah, as long as you promise not to kill us." Liam says jokingly from his place standing in the bed of Brett's truck.

 

"I appreciate it, really I do.. But we don't stay still very long." He looks over to Derek, who's looking at himself in the rearview mirror of the Camaro and scrubbing at the blood on his jaw with a rag.

 

"Then you'll come and visit, right?" Scott pleads, Stiles nods.

 

"Sure, I wouldn't mind stopping by from time to time... If it's okay with Derek." He smiles.

 

"I'm okay with it, but we have other obligations. People to see, allies to assist, favors to cash in." He winks at Stiles, who grins.

 

"Yeah, you aren't the only asses we save." He snorts, walking to the passenger seat of the Camaro. "But this isn't the last you've seen of us.. We're quite the nuisances, you can't get rid of us easily." He assures.

 

He climbs into the Camaro as Derek does, and they pull back out onto the road. They wave to the pack as they depart, heading by to their apartment to pack.

 

"You and Scott seemed to resolve your issues." Derek says to him smugly, like he was right all along. Stiles flicks him in the ear.

 

"We came to a mutual point of trust when he saved us. Not like we're best bros again suddenly." He huffs.

 

"Yeah but you don't hate him anymore." Derek rebuts.

 

"I don't quite like him either." Stiles objects.

 

"You've gone soft." Derek snickers.

 

"Have not! Derek Hale you take that back!" He snaps, trying to hide his smile.

 

"Admit it, this was a good idea! I was right!" He grins.

 

"That ego of yours is much too big." He grumbles, settling back in his seat.

 

"Yeah, yeah... But everything's settled out, and we can head back up to the cabin." He shrugs.

 

"Not until we see Rosalee." He checks his phone, the screen is slightly cracked but it still works. "Who, from the looks of it, seems to need help. Nick's run into some trouble." He sighs.

 

"Guess the cabin can wait." Derek mutters as they pull into the apartment parking lot.

 

"It'll be easy, just a simple job." Stiles says.

 

"That's what you always say, Stiles." He smirks, shoving him as they approach the door.

 

"Yeah, well maybe this time I'll be right."

 

"I doubt it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( THE END!!! Well, did you like it?!?! I liked it, I thought it wasn't too shabby... Leave a comment below if you liked it, have a great night! )


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